


The Threat Within

by Fangirlinit



Series: Cosmofleet [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2016-02-19
Packaged: 2018-05-01 12:04:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 144,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5205239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fangirlinit/pseuds/Fangirlinit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two years later, Emma and Regina come face to face with the choices they have made. Against insurmountable challenges, they and their crew of the Storybrooke must prepare for a war centuries in the making.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Once Upon a Time or the various movies and television series I borrow concepts from.

_“I already love you, Mother. I always have. Don’t you understand?”_

Regina tossed and turned in bed. The sheets, a once crisp linen, were bunched by fists. A brutal sleep assaulted the captain’s quarters. Harsh screams bounced off the walls and whimpers sounded through the pillow. Her legs kicked and her arms wrenched against the sea of bedclothes just trying to comfort her. She kicked and cried out like she had the moment she came into this wondrous yet cruel galaxy.

Regina would have scolded herself if she were conscious of such an indecent display.

Her heart raced, unknowingly, as she saw Cora’s fluttering eyes behind her own. The elder eyes widened at once, seeming to behold her daughter's as if she were birthed from her anew. Her body twitched as Regina’s twisted more.

“Mother…”

A finger crooked. Well-reddened lips glistened.

_“The people whom you serve are not as they seem.”_

Regina’s head turned on her pillow. Her cheek tingled under the ghost-like touch. She whimpered again as tears wet her clothes.

“No…”

_“Tread carefully, my love.”_

And then her heart hitched as if jerked by a string. Regina’s eyes flew up and she came back.

* * *

“Honestly, of all the first officers in Cosmofleet history I had to be stuck with the runt of the litter.”

Commander Regina Mills stormed down the corridor with an ever present scowl on her face. Her boots made tracks along the floor, smooth and polished as a mirror. Crewmembers jumped out of harm’s way, nearly flattening themselves against the bulkheads in order to steer clear of the captain.

And that scowl…

Many thought it a permanent attribute while an uncommon few believed the expression to be an unfortunate hazard of being captain of the most famous starship in Cosmofleet. Regina was not only leader of the prized _Storybrooke_ , but the youngest captain in fleet history and the only female to hold the title. She was the most watched and most revered (as well as hated) humanoid in the Milky Way galaxy. Regina had served for 12 years and knew the contours of her pedestal well. She knew them like she did the countless expectations whispered behind her back and demanded to her face. A burden like that _required_ a stiff upper lip and the freedom to show outright contempt on a whim.

Regina didn’t pay mind to the crowds she plowed through nor did she catch the widened looks she would normally see the humor in smirking at. Regina knew all too well the fear she struck in the hearts of men and women, humans and non-humans. On any other day she’d take the opportunity to drink in their fear and enable her devilish smile to feed on their helplessness. Now all she could do about those misconceptions of what it truly meant to carry the mantle of captain was run. Instead of carrying out the feeding and drinking of pathetic emotions she continued to mutter in rage.

“Command should have sent an _android_. At least they have memory processors that last longer than a microsecond.”

Regina had reached her breaking point. The sign of such crisis came in the form of a bluish-gray hatch door and its designation…

_Counselor Nolan_

Regina pulled up to the door and, upon realizing where she ended up, rolled her eyes. Of all the hatchways and passages, the decks and corridors, it had to be here: C deck at the hospitality of _Storybrooke’s_ resident psychiatrist. Oh, the irony.

Due to extended tours in the Outer Reach, the Commonwealth instituted a law that required all fleet vessels to have a certified psychiatrist onboard. The presence of a therapist was held to ease the mind of the captain as well as prevent increasing cases of interstellar delusions (known in Leman’s Terms as “spacing out”). The psychological effects of space travel were well studied and documented. Cases ranged from instances of claustrophobia, hallucination, and hyper emotionality (i.e. rage or euphoria). The origins of these psychoses typically stemmed from isolationism and being away from family, friends, and society for months at a time.

There were also occurrences pertaining to more Earthly issues like gender composition, religious attitudes, humanoid and nonhumanoid relations, rank disputes, and romantic entanglements – all of which threaten crew cohesion if overlooked. Managing these interpersonal relationships on Earth could be a tricky obstacle, but in space the likelihood of a mental breakdown in any form increased tenfold. The consequences could mean disastrous results for an entire crew.

All the more reason to encourage sound minds in Cosmofleet’s best and brightest with the incorporation of highly trained, 24/7 available professionals. Every vessel provided a safe haven where crew could speak their minds, solve disagreements, and develop the insight to override personal and professional obstacles.

Despite her reservations about revealing her own present burning issues, Regina stowed away the scowl for a neutral frown. She rapped her knuckles on the metallic hatch before clasping her hands behind her back.

The door parted with a hiss.

“Captain, I was not aware we had a meeting scheduled.”

Regina continued to stand tall with shoulders thrust back. “The captain does not make appointments,” she said, the tone as stiff as her uniform collar.

The counselor gave a hardened glare before breaking out into a smile and embracing Regina. The flash of terror in the captain’s eyes humored the counselor who justified her own ambush by calling attention to Regina’s clear and present tension.

“Has my brother been pestering you about the sensor arrays again?”

“No,” Regina sniffed indignantly and stared off as if her chief science officer was already writing up a proposal to HQ behind her back. The new upgrades were costly enough for Regina to pass over. “No, David wouldn’t dare, but I suppose ever senior officer has his or her limits. Kathryn, I don’t know how you stand him.”

“We’re family,” the long, golden blonde-haired Kathryn defended with a chuckle and put her hand on Regina’s arm. “And family suffers through endless talk of subdural bio probes and carbon compounds.”

“It all sounds rather unseemly to me.” Regina rolled her eyes, her derision for both unfortunate bloodlines and organic chemistry showing.

Kathryn detected a familiar note of anxiety and softened her eyes. “What is it this time?”

Always appreciative of the counselor’s gentle prodding, Regina exhaled and relaxed her gait. She gave the arm a squeeze before allowing it to guide her into the room.

“You tell me, Counselor.”

“First officer troubles?”

Before lowering to the sofa, Regina gave a pointed look. “You are far too intuitive to receive the pay of a ship’s counselor.”

“Well, you did ask.”

“I expected you to humor me. I need it.”

“I don’t think I get paid enough to humor _you_ , Captain.”

A laugh bubbled to Regina’s lips. “Now that is funny.”

They laughed together, each settling back into the cushions.

Counselor’s Quarters boasted the most lavish sitting area on the ship. Apparently, Cosmofleet spared no expense in making the psychiatrist’s office a welcome place for crew to air out their laundry. The counsel one received here was vital, of course, but a carefully decked space created a safe environment.

White love seats were shaped like half-moons, each of their tips curving towards the opposite facing couch. A plethora of sea green and blue pillows softened the harsh white of the chairs. The oval wood coffee table stood as a centerpiece where coffee or tea served as a middle ground between doctor and patient. The rest of the room was painted in soft green, blue, and white to match the sitting area. Kathryn’s desk waited disused and insignificant off in a corner. Soft lamplight – a warm gold, not the silver fluorescence beating down on corridor pedestrians – washed over visitors’ faces. A tranquil, bubbling fish tank stood along one wall and encompassed a variety of vibrantly colored fish from Bota Baui’s tropical waters.

Nothing looked drab or intimidating. It gave off a homey impression, one of relaxation. No sharp edges or harsh expectations, just soft curves and an organic touch. Bluntly put, it was very much unlike the captain’s quarters.

After a brief sweep of the room Regina’s eyes finally fell on the steaming pot of tea between them.

“Either you’re clairvoyant or I’m intruding on an imminent session.” Before Kathryn uttered a syllable Regina was already on her feet. “I apologize for intruding. It’s late afternoon and I really do have much to take care of.”

“But there’s no –“

“It’s fine. I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Regina, this is nonsense! You must stay. I insist.”

“Or what?” the captain challenged with a twist of her mouth and a raise of her brow. “You’ll declare me mentally incompetent?”

“Wouldn’t you rather it come from me than Doctor Blanchard?”

“Your threats are becoming more striking every time I come here. How on Earth do you shake me so?” At Kathryn’s stubborn silence, Regina sighed and returned to the cushion. “Very well. You win.”

“Tea?” Kathryn fashioned a cheery smile while handing over the cup.

Threads of steam slithered up from the liquid and warmed Regina’s nose as she inhaled. She closed her eyes, allowing the scent of chamomile to tender her anxiety.

It was easy enough to relax in the presence of a personal friend. Kathryn had joined the crew two years ago, thereby adding a second MD to the roster. Her attendance aboard _Storybrooke_ put many crewmembers on edge. Having a shrink in their midst made them feel uncomfortable and predisposed to mental instability because why else would the fleet send her there? Many feared Counselor Nolan was just waiting for them to crack.

In the beginning, the captain received a few complaints, all of which were baseless. Her twin brother, David, who was greatly admired amongst the lower decks, quelled the worst of these negative feelings. The captain, having experience in these matters, would not allow dissent in the ranks, nor bad blood between crewmembers. Amity aboard a ship bred safety and security for all and she saw to it personally.

As a result, Regina would act as host to the counselor and assure her that her skills were wanted onboard. Kathryn didn’t want to be a bother, and yet she saw ample reason to stick it out for the sake of the crew’s health. It was through the captain’s assurances and Kathryn’s tea and biscuits that the two became good friends.

In time, _Storybrooke’s_ resident psychiatrist became a valued and respected part of the crew. Although her surprisingly welcome role as the commander’s only friend onboard rustled suspicion amongst some, they accepted it nonetheless. Regina herself retained misgivings about growing close to Kathryn. She did not have ‘close’ friends on Earth. She didn’t relinquish trust easily. One had to go through a grueling assessment in order to be even considered friend material. But patient, fearless Kathryn passed with flying colors. She had come to be someone Regina trusted. Kathryn had a great sense of integrity and attention to rules the captain hadn’t seen in anyone in a long time. More than anything, Regina admired the woman’s defiant side, which upheld the needs of a crewmember’s mental stability above fleet rules. Like the captain, she would do whatever was necessary to keep her home and the people in it safe from harm.

But Kathryn wasn’t all stiff and proper. She had a humorous side and a caring nature that balanced well with Regina’s cold temperament. Kathryn’s charming smile and lovely blue eyes were similar to that of her brother, whom loved her and looked up to her dearly and was never afraid to show it. Sometimes it proved hard for Regina to reconcile the similarities between the siblings. They indeed had matching hand gestures and an annoying (though oddly endearing) need to please. However, where David acted awkwardly civil, Kathryn took on a rather playful nature. Her demeanor was less tense than David’s. She didn’t fear reprimand and wouldn’t think twice about pulling the captain’s leg. She didn’t tip toe around authority and that’s exactly why Regina felt so comfortable around her. Kathryn was adored for her courage and her spunk. It’s why Regina saw fit to befriend her.

“I really didn’t know you’d be stopping by,” Kathryn said. “And there’s no patient. My evening is completely open.”

“Maybe that’s what has me worried. A young, beautiful woman such as yourself shouldn’t be confined to drinking tea alone. You need to find yourself someone.” Regina’s eyes shifted hesitantly as she scrambled for the right word. "To... socialize with and… well, date.”

“That chamomile must be going to your head if you’ve forgotten fleet rules. You do know romance in the work place is frowned upon, right? And that you’re willingly advising me to break that rule?”

“I’m not so naïve as to think fleet personnel do not engage in romantic liaisons left and right – even amongst my own crew. I can’t police every relationship onboard. And while I would never advise them to break regulation, you are different. We’re friends. We know each other.”

Kathryn’s head shook idly. “Mm, no. You _let_ me know you. I know not many here are given that chance. And the fact that I do know you helps me detect when you’re lying to me.” The stare she fastened on Regina bore unflinchingly. “Although I’m flattered that you worry over me and my lonely tea parties, that’s not what has set you on edge. Now tell me… what has the Lieutenant Commander done to upset you this time?”

Regina sighed. “Testing my patience – again! I don’t know how much more I can take. I cannot very well do my duty as commander when I have an imbecile for a first officer.”

“I thought he graduated from the academy at the top of his class? When you took him on didn’t you say he – what’s his name? Wanker? – had a theoretically promising career in Cosmofleet?”

 _Wanker_. Regina shook her head, suppressing her amusement. The man garnered just as much amusement as disdain among her senior officers. He stuck out like a sore thumb: incredibly short of height, inky black crew cut hair, a persistent throat clearing habit, and a pinched face that made him look like he possessed a permanent squint.

His appearance may have been unpleasant, but it was his on-duty performance that made him insufferable. Rumple had already washed his hands of the guy, threatening him with a lashing, lizard-like tongue that if Waylor so much as asked to take the helm, he’d be sorry. Rumple would hold his need for a trip to the lavatory for eternity before letting the “grease ball human” lay a finger on his precious controls. Of course, to Rumple, “human” was curse enough.

Belle, much to her gentle nature, reserved judgment and became Waylor’s one and only defender. To David, who treasured the subtle hum of the hyperdrive, Waylor’s very hacking presence was an imposition. At one time, his short, stubby fingers pressed a wrong button that engaged a critical system meltdown. Who knew what alarm a cough would set off? And Ruby… Regina hardly found herself in a moment of weakness, but with Ruby’s snark on the bridge, the girl’s station there did feel justified.

Then there was Kathryn who frequently referred to the man as First Officer “Wanker” when they weren’t on duty. Although that name never left the room, Kathryn could never be accused of somber wit.

“Waylor,” corrected Regina with an indulgent grin. “The key word you mentioned being _theoretically_. He may have been a hot shot in the classroom, but out here he is incompetent. He can’t pilot his way out of a vacant shuttlebay!” Regina’s breathing became faster while her hand gestures more erratic. She sliced the air with the edge of her hand and said, “Kathryn, I literally have to watch his every move just to ensure the artificial grav systems don’t collapse again.”

The counselor gasped, remembering the 96 minutes every crewmember had to suffer floating around the ship until David and Leroy managed to get the onboard gravity back on line. “Oh,” clapping a hand over her developing giggle, “that was _him_?”

Regina nodded gravely. “I’ve already kept anything containing buttons and levers on the main bridge off limits as he cannot go within a foot of any of it before something goes wrong. Every time I turn around alarm bells go off! His skills in the shuttle are atrocious – I have Petty Officer Claude shadowing him on assignment. Machines clearly do not like the man.”

Kathryn smiled, a wry expression outlining her features. “ _You_ don’t like him.”

“Does it matter? If he did his job correctly I still wouldn’t like him. My personal feelings towards him have nothing to do with our professional rapport.”

“They did when Emma was your first officer.”

A cold, shadowy blanket enveloped Regina. Her face fell sullenly without her permission. There were some things in this galaxy that could twist the interiors of a person, make them sour, nauseous, sick beyond belief. For Regina it was a name and a time – the very mention of either that contorted her insides until they felt ripped from her empty cavity. It felt unreasonable, raw, and sudden. Much like Emma’s resignation.

“I told you not to call her that.”

“What, because ‘that woman’ is so specific? It took me months to figure out who you were talking about, Regina.”

Kathryn replaced her empty cup to its saucer with a dainty clink and put it back on the table next to Regina’s untouched cup. She sighed, fingering through her long hair with an air of frustration. A part of her regretted bringing up Emma in the first place. Regina was clearly distressed (had been since she arrived at her door). Another part of Kathryn knew it was a long time coming. Lieutenant Commander Waylor had been a subject of disappointment since the day he set foot aboard _Storybrooke_. At the time, Kathryn herself had only been in service to the starship one year, yet she knew a captain’s frustration when she saw it. Waylor was not his predecessor and would never be his predecessor.

Although Kathryn hadn’t the pleasure of meeting Emma, the crew boasted much praise for their former first officer. Enough talk circulated across all decks that Kathryn received a fair opinion of her. In addition to crew gossip, Regina’s sporadic opinions shed some light on who ‘that woman’ really was and what she meant to the _Storybrooke_.

Pulling herself from contemplation, Kathryn glanced across the coffee table and noticed how uncommonly quiet her friend had become. Poor Regina had been losing steam these days. Even at the mention of Emma she could only glare half-heartedly and remind Kathryn of her bitter sentimentality. She almost wished for the captain’s infamous obstinacy and her rants on red leather jackets and scuffed floors. At least then Regina looked like an active human being. This Regina, half-slumped on the sofa and giving her tea a rueful stare, appeared anything but.

Kathryn leaned forward, clasping her hands on her knee. She fought to keep the psychiatrist out of her voice when she asked, “How have you been sleeping?”

“Like a captain,” Regina answered pithily. “Uneasily and not very often.”

Kathryn eyed her pointedly, albeit scolding. “You should have thought about that before you accepted promotion.”

Regina shook her head, grinning. This was why she loved Kathryn. The doctor wasn’t afraid to ruffle her feathers. In fact, she did so with aplomb and a catlike smile. She knew exactly how to navigate around the sharp points of Regina’s temperament, how hard to prod, when to push, what place on Regina’s shoulder that needed a kindly squeeze.

Unprepared to expand on the ghosts of her past, Regina gave in to the counselor. “Nightmares have a way of opening old wounds.”

A nod from Kathryn indicated that nothing more needed to be said. She had extracted bits and pieces of Regina’s history through these friendly exchanges. Sometimes Regina wouldn’t even realize she was doing so, and when she gave signs of shock or withdrawal Kathryn wisely backed off and changed the subject. It was a skillful dance and dodge of getting to know one such as Regina Mills, but Kathryn already made up her mind a long time ago. Regina may be an ice queen, but she was worth getting to know.

Consequently, Regina caved in on herself again, falling silent and grave. The mounting number of sleepless nights caught up to her in drooping lids, dark circles under her eyes, and a tottering posture. When she felt her equilibrium tilt, she swallowed against the acid churning in her stomach and propped herself up with a hand to the sofa’s arm. She leaned heavily into it, closing her eyes and pressing her fingers to the migraine between her brows. Her queasy stomach did somersaults. She felt sick, and the fact that she knew why made it all the more worse.

_“Tread carefully, my love.”_

It had been the first of many nightmares. Her mother’s widening brown eyes plagued her night after night with no reprieve. Cora’s cryptic warning went to war with Regina’s own sense of reality.

Tragedy hadn’t struck quick enough. It endured to punish and pummel, death’s fists striking blow after blow. The inevitability of death opened Cora’s heart for the first and last time. Witnessing the regret in her mother’s eyes took Regina’s breath away – she didn’t believe it possible. She did believe though when they shared their last breaths as family. Cora loved her. Yet with this untimely affirmation came unrecognizable liability. Preconceptions would fall like dominos and shake the foundations of everything Regina believed in.

A finger could be pointed in blame, but it would be baseless without reason and proof. She couldn’t tell anyone of this. Even with the proper evidence, Regina would be tried for treason against her government.  She had no way of knowing what her mother meant. She had not the means to investigate what with her drowning in personnel reports and arguing with Leroy about what upgrades to lavish _their_ engine. She didn’t have time to dabble in threats and conspiracies when she hardly got within a few parsecs of Earth these days. Between babysitting her senior officers and the readily available nightmares awaiting her every night, there were more stressful issues to occupy her time. Regina was never one for sarcasm, but she was finding herself growing fond of this means to lighten the gloom.

She could not very well tell Kathryn.

“I could get a decent night’s rest if I didn’t have to worry about Waylor.”

“From what you’ve told me these past few months I should think he ought to come with a warning label.”

“Which is precisely why I intend to get rid of him pronto.” Regina noted her friend’s surprise and pressed, “He is a danger to this ship, Kathryn. Why on Earth wouldn’t I entertain the idea?”

“Because then you will have to consider a replacement. The whole process takes time and money Command doesn’t lend so willingly these days. Regina, you know you have my full support, but you will, no doubt, receive heavy resistance from the admirals.”

“I’d rather face them than ‘oops, I flipped the wrong switch’ Waylor. Ugh, he is so revolting!”

“There are other things you should consider before cutting this man’s career short. You’ll have to explain to possible candidates why the _Storybrooke_ can’t hold on to its first officer for more than a few months.” Kathryn held her hands up as the scowl she was receiving felt much like being held at blaster point. “I’m just saying what you’re thinking. People will ask questions you won’t want to answer. You can’t expect them to see past your icy exterior in the span of an interview. And we both know the only person who can measure up is a million lightyears away on a planet you refuse to set foot on.”

Tilting her head, Regina narrowed her eyes. “What are you saying?”

Kathryn cocked her head as well. She lifted her cup to her lips but before sipping replied, “I think you know what I’m saying.”

“What makes you think she would even see me? It’s been two years and I haven’t received the slightest transmission.”

“Contrary to what you so often rant on about, this is not about her, Regina. And, to be honest, this is not about getting _Storybrooke_ its perfect first officer. This is for your sake as much as hers. You need closure, my friend, and that won’t happen when you are flying off to the other side of the galaxy to evade it.”

“I cannot very well abandon my post just to get railroaded into another debate with the princess of authority issues,” Regina said with an irate wave of her hand. Her eyes were wide and fiery with uncertainty over the future as well as the past. “No,” she settled firmly, laying her hands on the planes of her thighs with precision. “No, I will not.”

“Vaporize me,” mumbled Kathryn. She rolled her eyes, shaking her head in exasperation. “She’s trying to convince _herself_.”

“It’s just not right for the crew at this time,” Regina declared, mostly to herself. “If I have to let Waylor go, then so be it. I’d be happier for it and so would the rest of the ship. Honestly, I might request Command to send an android as first officer. At least I could wipe their memory whenever I wanted.”

“Regina…” The counselor’s admonishing tone carried with it an urgency to see reason.

The commander squirmed in place, her face contorting from nervousness to frustration and back again. “But she’s… she’s stubborn. _So_ stubborn.”

Kathryn smiled. “I’m sure you’ll find your way around it. You always did, according to talk around the ship.”

“You place far too much faith in water cooler gossip, Counselor.”

“Even the most implausible can be true.”

“For the record, what you are doing is coercion.”

“Be that as it may, but I’m shocked, Regina, that you’d think I wouldn’t misuse my power to help a friend.”

“Help?” Regina snorted. “Snowball’s chance in a supernova. I don’t even think I saved any of my civilian clothing,” she noted as an afterthought. A huff slipped from her lips. “I don’t want to buy new clothes. And I hate those gods damned air cab drivers! They don’t clean those seats. They are atrocious! This whole idea will put me in a predicament and you, _my friend_ , will be to blame for it.”

Smirking, Kathryn just laid back into the couch and put on a mask of ignorance. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back.” She winked as Regina escorted herself out.

* * *

Regina had every reason to be nervous about returning to Earth and not just because of Emma. She rarely set foot on her home planet and only found herself there when mandated by her superiors. When she was on Earth, she’d confine herself to the glossy floors and impeccable conference rooms of the Presidio. Otherwise, in times of furlough or when the _Storybrooke_ needed advanced repairs, Regina would dock at the orbital space station along with the rest of the crew. But unlike her crew she did not join the shuttle rides down to the surface and when she finally did, after two years at the behest of her friend and counselor, Regina became distraught.

“Business or pleasure?”

Standing on the other side of the transparisteel divider, Regina stared at the GTSA officer like he came from out of a black hole. “It is 2260. Why does your administration persist in asking such an asinine question?” At the attendant’s still waiting she snapped, “Neither,” and ripped her passport out of his hands.

Galactic Transportation Security Administration didn’t approve of outright hostility and they were well within their government issued rights to arrest anyone who showed the slightest signs. However, with a face and reputation like Commander Mills, one could pass through the highest levels of security undeterred. And, sporting an annoyed roll of the eyes, Regina did just that.

Even out of uniform there was no hiding her illustrious image. She just wanted to pass through unnoticed, finish what she came there to do, and get out with her dignity intact. The last thing she wanted to worry about was paparazzi.

Regina had anticipated walking amongst civilians in their style, but she owned little of that sort since purging her cabin closet two years ago. What remained came in the form of plain black pants, divested of a gold stripe on its outside seam, and a charcoal gray scoop neck shirt. Wrapped in a black blazer as a means to tie her back to her business formal roots, Regina threw herself amongst the civilian wolves.

Inevitably, her ensemble hardly blended in with the residents. She couldn’t pass for a working class Earthling if she had help from makeover police. She would have slapped every one of their faces for trying to get her into anything faded or frayed. And gods forbid she strut around in unpleated trousers.

She passed through the airport’s sliding doors and felt the ends of her hair tickle her neck. A smoggy breeze stirred up as if to welcome her home. Heels clicked to a halt on the duracrete. Regina paled at her surroundings. 

What a wretched, imposing place. What pollution and corruption. She hadn’t always felt this way. She only now developed this novel sense of alienation.

The vast expanse of the planet forced her to adapt fast, regardless of the many months she’d spent onboard a classy, yet claustrophobic _Regal_ -class starship. Air cabs, hovercars, and sky buses crisscrossed overhead, the perpetual drones of their engines piercing her normally untroubled ears. Passersby knocked shoulders without so much as a “pardon me.” A litany of solicitors berated young men and women on the sidewalks to join the fight against Commonwealth’s bigotry – lawyers from all walks of politics including libertarian, socialist, and anarchist. Their clipboards flapped unwanted before faces until someone signed it or spat on it.

Everything about this place assaulted her senses. She stood unprepared for this discomfort, not to mention further on guard. Taking a deep breath, Regina exhaled it in one long rush. She pulled a small datapad from her purse and pulled up the coordinates. Before docking in Earth’s orbit, Regina scavenged through several databases until she located the right “Emma Swan.” There were a total of thirteen on Earth, but only one could pick the unholiest of places to employ themselves.

Replacing the datapad with a sniff, Regina scaled one of many stairways leading to the transit platform. This particular station rose a mere four stories above ground level and came with an overwhelming stench of alcohol (and not the kind that you rub). She took careful pains not to come into contact with any coughing youngster, twitching android, or persons in general. Approaching the edge of the platform, Regina hailed the cleanest looking air cab she could spot.

A 20-minute crummy backseat ride and several bad jokes later, Regina’s cab pulled up to “Dusty’s Airship Supply and Repair.” She blindly tipped her flat-humored driver and strode up to the building monstrosity with a look of astonishment. Her eyes glazed over the business – correction: shipyard – from bottom to top and back again. The repair shop was so enormous it could comprise the entire _Storybrooke_ , yet this particular facility did not service Cosmofleet vessels. Instead, it provided repairs for commercial liners. The enclosed building had a look of Old World barge factories whose wide sliding doors on either end parted for the capacity of a ship to pass through. And that was just from Regina’s perspective; she was sure the back of the compound extended another twenty blocks than she could see.

Stepping up to the nearest hanger opening, Regina thrust back her shoulders and held her chin high in the hopes that her status will get her quick, precise answers. She asked the first fellow in sight who pointed her down a long, narrow passage of a transport’s bisected aft.

The further Regina ventured into the hanger the less imposing she felt. There were all manner and sizes of people at work here: humans and non-humans, males and females, students, academy dropouts, and past retirement age folk. They all seemed to work with more ethos than Regina might think to find at an airship repair shop. There were welders, engineers, and electricians. Clicking down duracrete in her blazer and pumps, Regina couldn’t be more out of place.

Upon further scrutiny, Regina altered her assumptions. It was not the bisected aft of a ship, but a purposeful choice of style with two wing-like stabilizers. Regina quirked a brow. A most curious design. She ran her fingers along the exterior, noting the hull’s aged scoring.

She reached the cleft of the two wings and what she supposed was the main exterior engine. Scaffolding was poised under the dead engine while a worker used it for the comfort of lying on her back while being able to reach necessary repairs. Her long blonde hair cascaded over the edge of the framework and fluttered in the breeze of the hanger’s ventilation. Regina craned her neck to catch sight of its subtle dance in midair.

“I don’t know if this is a regression or you just like putting your hands in hazardous places.”

The mechanic’s tinkering froze. Her arms were still elbow deep in the hull’s cavity when her blonde head made a little tilt to the side. The pause could have been to prepare herself or to second-guess the identity of the woman addressing her. In any case, no civilian in killer heels came clicking up to her these days and sure as seven hells not through a shipyard.

She put the spanner down and extracted a small component from the engine. She then carefully scaled the scaffolding back to ground level.

“I always had a way with fixing engines,” Emma said, picking up a rag from her work space and began cleaning the palm-sized piece of equipment.

“I remember.”

Busy hands stopped. Emma stared unflinchingly at the part. The moment passed and then she returned to polishing.

“How did you know it was me?” Regina found herself asking. Her brows pinched together at how stupid a question it was.

“We don’t get a lot of your people around here.”

Emma had yet to meet her face. It had been two years and the woman still wouldn’t give the captain the courtesy. “My people?” asked Regina, shifted from one foot to the other and grinding her teeth.

Emma’s obliviousness allowed Regina to give her an unabashed once over. Not much changed since they last saw one another. Emma’s golden mane of hair still hung in a tangled mess past her shoulders. Her jeans were tattered in places, her dark red t-shirt cut off at muscular shoulders, and the veins in her hands became prominent under the stress of work. She carried herself with the experience of having seen the other side of the galaxy and lived to talk about it, and yet somehow managed to look young and surprisingly more attractive despite.

But some things were inescapable from time. The lines in her forehead were a bit deeper, furrowing to the more Earthly hardships. Her strides were shorter, her footfalls heavier due to the planet’s natural gravity. Emma walked like she carried a monstrous weight. Her shoulders sagged to the invisible burden. Her skin glowed brighter from sun exposure, but something told Regina her eyes did not contain the same radiance. She couldn’t tell how green those eyes still enflamed or how many lines around them the girl had developed over the years because Emma still wouldn’t look at her.

Regina’s eyes fluttered dangerously with the shake of her head. “My people… Is that supposed to be some sort of dig towards my sense of fashion?”

“Cosmofleet,” Emma clarified. “They don’t come around here. This shipyard takes on mostly commercial vessels and personal luxury cruisers.” Upon finishing the equipment’s polishing, Emma placed it on her makeshift worktable. She used the dirty rag to scrub the excess grease from her palms. She sighed heavily. Her eyes flicked up, finally, to behold Regina. “You have any of that that needs fixing?”

The captain’s features fell, but only for a second. She blinked at the grim line of Emma’s mouth and lifted her eye line. Defiant to the last, Regina tilted her chin up and demanded, “What in seven hells are you doing here, Miss Swan?”

Sluggish from spending hours under an ion engine, Emma put her hands on her hips and shifted her weight to one leg. “This must be a serious concern of yours. You don’t swear.”

“Correction, you have never heard me swear. And don’t change the subject.”

Emma shrugged, scanning the hanger permeated by fumes, steam, and the occasional shower of sparks. “I work here.”

“ _Obviously_ ,” Regina droned and then cocked her head. “Why?”

“What’s it to a commander in the fleet?”

The tone just barely reached smarting level, but a part of Regina flamed anew. Something once thought lost rustled to the call and sprang into action. Regina’s lip curled while simultaneously feeling her insides coated in liquid adrenaline. She was consumed by it, bathed euphoric in flames. The only comparison could be felt slingshot around a moon at 12 G’s.

Then Regina faltered, realizing that in her reverie of bitching out her former first officer Emma was already answering.

“… high-ranking position and well-respected by my co-workers. The hours are even good enough that I get adequate time off. The boss even lets me test drive some of the cruisers before the owners come round to pick them up.” Emma shifted on her restless feet, turning a shoulder in and daring the captain to rain on her parade. “I get to do the three most important things in my life…” She used the fingers of her hand to list off, “Fix things, fly, and be with my kid. I’ve got no other priorities and that’s damned fine by me.”

Resentment laced Emma’s words without her noticing. Regrets and half-fulfilled dreams. Memories of plasma streams on diamond studded velvet, of blaster grazes, smoke hazes, and rousing battle cries. There was no way of getting back to them, Emma’s face told Regina. There was no honest means for Emma to get back to her stars. All she saw now were constellations from a meaningless spot on planet Earth. Emma Swan’s star struck eyes had long gone dim.

Regina’s exhale trembled on its way out. She blinked back the sting in her eyes as she looked on what this woman had become. A part of Regina felt to blame. She should have tried harder to retain the haphazard, though unique, skills of ex-First Officer Swan. She should have pushed aside her feelings and asked the questions a commander should have demanded of their subordinate. Another part of Regina raged at Emma for allowing herself to slip away – for that was exactly how Emma had left. She wanted to take her by her sculpted, grease-stained shoulders and shake her until some sense dawned on that misguided excuse for a brain. She hated Emma for being so foolish and so weak as to think Cosmofleet had outgrown her. Regina felt so much hate for one person and so much guilt on her own part that the conflicting salvo of emotions struck her unable to speak.

Unexpected, though no less fitting.

The straps of her purse cut into her shoulder and Regina brought her hand to join the other in hanging onto it, hardly realizing the purse was the only thing grounding her more intense reactions. She forced her eyebrow into an arch. “So the civilian life suits you, does it?”

“It does,” Emma claimed, adding to the folly of their game.

“You sound sure of yourself. I hope you’re not putting on a show for my sake.”

“You’re not my commanding officer, Regina. I don’t have to bust my ass anymore to please you and your unbending standards.”

“Oh, you made that quite clear even when I _did_ hold sway over you. I can hardly tell the difference these days.”

Emma searched the heavy brown eyes, displaying her need to _know_. “Difference between what?”

“Whether my first officers carry out their orders for the simple, intractable fact that they must or because they are afraid of what I might do if they don’t.”

“Well,” Emma snorted, “I’ve never been accused of the latter. I know without a doubt that we agree on that, at least.”

“Yes.”

“Which made me all the more a pain in your ass,” added Emma with a trace of sentimentality. She breathed a light sigh and felt the tension slipping away from her shoulders. “So what did they do? Your first officer, I mean.”

“What makes you think I always employ ineffectual second-in commands?”

Emma waved a hand. “Just me, I know. But my successor must have made a real ass of himself – or herself – if they have you running back to me.”

“I am not _running_ to anyone.” Regina crossed her arms over her chest and glared. “And I resent the accusation.”

“It’s more of an assumption, and a correct one at that.”

“Based on what?” Regina choked. Her face thrust forth, reddening deceitfully. “What have I given you in the past few minutes that would lead you to believe I desire your help? You haven’t been around for the past two years. How do you know what is or is not taking place aboard my ship?”

“Because you don’t change, Regina.”

It cut into Regina like a vibroknife. She reared back on her neck, dumbfounded by the charge. Emma’s audacity didn’t surprise her anymore, but her lack of… faith? That did cause Regina’s skin to prickle.

“I’m not stupid, Regina. According to you I’m ‘occasionally detrimental,’” she air quoted from memory.

Regina’s brows surged at that. “So you _did_ read your performance reviews?”

“Don’t change the subject.” Emma enjoyed a private laugh at the captain’s exaggerated eye roll. Her smartassery didn’t get this kind of reaction from her boss, Dusty. He just let her do whatever the hell she wanted, knowing his mechanic could put anything she tore apart back to its rightful splendor and purring more handsomely than before. The thing about pissing off Regina is that her reactions were immediate and often times over-the-top, which lent some feedback as to whether Emma would be flushed out an airlock or sipping cider and trading barbs.

Even if Emma had her eyes closed she could tell Regina was enjoying this. The captain’s irate click of her tongue could be heard just over the racket of a nearby drill bit.

“ _Storybrooke’s_ first officer possessed… deficiencies. I had to let him go. I was under great pressure from my senior officers,” Regina held with a nod too deep to be considered truthful. “The details are confidential and not for the eyes or ears of someone who made the choice to quit their duties.”

Not missing a beat, Emma folded her arms and gestured with a jut of her chin. “Are you asking me to come back?”

Regina bit the inside of her cheek, stalling for a justification. She herself needed to know as well. It would have helped to be clued in on a ‘why’ before she came waltzing out of the blue and up to Emma Swan. She recalled the time she and the counselor shared tea not a week ago. Kathryn advised, as Regina’s conveniently innocent, no ifs ands or buts friend, that she should seek closure.

But how? What sort of closure could be gained from seeing Emma again? What could be gained from standing face-to-face with a faintly unhappy individual from her past?

Regina’s shoulders fell with her sigh. Oh, why on Earth had she put herself in this position?

“There is no conceivable reason why the fleet would accept you back. They don’t take kindly to people prone to sudden behavior changes. Case in point: A cadet is promoted to Lieutenant Commander, runs with it for a year before resigning. Short of any sort of explanation, she leaves as swiftly as she came. No transmission, no hologram, nothing for two years and three months. Her new lifestyle includes not flying starships but earning base rate pay in repairing them. And in a stuffy _hanger_ ,” Regina spat out, “on _Earth_.”

Emma’s eyes had widened, centimeter-by-centimeter, until the captain’s speech came to a close. With the green of her irises as big as saucers, Emma fought the need to retreat from Regina’s clear and present indignation. Apparently, this was not _Storybrooke’s_ newly terminated first officer but Emma that was being taken issue with. “O-okay…”

Chest heaving, Regina was affected more emotionally than physically. Although winded, her chest prickled to flashback moments spent perspiring in a defunct cooling system of a shuttle (Emma smiling sheepishly in a tangle of smoking wires), snagged in midair by a grappler which prevented a perilous fall over a cliff face and fracturing her collar bone in the process (overt heroics at fault), and frequenting the playground on furlough (giggles echoing back to her despite their waning memory).

“But Command’s shortcomings have never stopped me,” Regina finally settled. “I’ve served my government with distinction. Insurrections have been prevented far and wide along the Reach because of my swift negotiations. Earth is still the central hub of the galaxy, the Commonwealth its shining beacon of leadership mostly due to the high aptitude my record has encouraged at the academy.”

“Modest as usual,” mumbled Emma.

“I can and will employ whoever I damn well please, and Command will have nothing to say about it. So… yes, I am asking you to return to your previous post as first officer of the U.S.S. _Storybrooke_.”

“No.”

Regina blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Sorry, I mean: I _respectfully decline your offer_.”

Dumbstruck, Regina’s arms fell to her sides. No captain would willingly admit to desperation, nor would they be reduced to grasping at straws. Captains strategized out of tight situations and were masters at improvising solutions when pressed by further risk. At the moment, Regina lacked the will to conceal her desire, the strategy to persuade, and the ruthless tact at escaping humiliation.

Damn you, Kathryn, Regina thought.

“It isn’t an offer,” she snatched out of the thin, vapor-clouded air. Reclaiming her just authority, Regina straightened and declared, “It is an order.”

Emma gave a chuckle. “You can’t _order_ me to reenlist.”

“So you would rather sulk in a mediocre position at a _commercial_ shipyard and make barely above pittance for credits? When you could earn superior pay and be second-in-command of the grandest vessel in the galaxy? Have you spaced out, dear?”

“Insulting me and the people I work with is not going to get you within a lightyear of what you want. Gods, you used to call _me_ juvenile.”

“I am not messing around, Miss Swan. Please, for once in your life, give me the courtesy of taking the offer seriously.”

“You think I’m saying ‘no’ for kicks? Do you think I enjoy this invasion of privacy? I didn’t want you showing up. This is where I work, Regina. I’m respected here. Don’t you dare come back after two years and expect me to fall back in line like a good little officer. I won’t hear any more of your speeches, not when you talk down to me like you do.”

“I take that as a long-winded and absolute ‘no.’”

Emma returned the glare with one of her own. “Damn straight.”

Sighing, Regina looked for something to level her frustration at. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to gather that the captain did not take failure well. The fact that she had failed, utterly, knocked her down a bit. She brought a hand to her head. She was tired, so, so tired. The shuttle ride to Earth… her bustling surroundings… seeing Emma again after all this time and not having anything to show for it but guilt and hatred…

“Fine,” she whispered, waving a hand in allowance. She didn’t know if Emma overheard and it hardly mattered.

Battling fatigue with every last shred of stamina Regina had in her, she lifted her head. Her eyes clapped on Emma’s. It was everything left unsaid, and a goodbye. Regina turned her back and made to leave.

Suddenly, she paused and twirled without proper cause. “Tell Henry I said hello.” Regina managed to get it out before her better judgment clamped her throat shut. She cleared her throat unconsciously as if her reflexes were not her own.

Emma studied her for a moment, at a loss for how to respond. Just minutes ago she was not-so-subtly demanding Regina to stay out of her life and now the look on the captain’s face and how she humbly begged her to pass along a simple “hello” and the way it looked like she was choking over her own words made Emma falter.

Hesitant, she glanced at her feet and chewed on her bottom lip before meeting expectant brown eyes. “Sure,” she responded without really having to think too deeply about it. She swallowed hard enough to hear it.

Regina gave a small, rare smile upon receiving her answer and then left.


	2. Chapter 2

A few days later Regina held a lecture to an auditorium full of enthusiastic students. When on leave from rotation, high-ranking fleet officers were requested to lend their field experience to future fleet personnel through lecture/discussions. Topics ranged from leadership, ethics, non-humanoid/humanoid inter-relationships, foreign political structures, and the like. No matter what area of fleet life was discussed, the hallmark of the academy’s teaching system was preparing new graduates for the realities of space travel.

Although Admiral Hopper always asked out of the goodness of his heart, Regina knew it was far from a simple request. She had an understanding of how these lectures proceeded, but hadn’t ‘found the time’ to pull her weight in the academic arena in some while. After two years of evading her superior’s kindly wishes, Regina was running out of excuses.

That day, Regina had low expectations for her lecture “Women in Cosmofleet.” At first she didn’t think her notes would attract that many students, but the captain had vastly underestimated the current climate in gender studies. The academy was turning out more female cadets every term with a 20 percent increase in women applying per semester. Statistics were one thing, but to have a body of eager young women filter into her lecture hall and participate in lively discussion perked Regina up.

A roar of applause bounced off the auditorium’s high, soundproof walls and reached Regina’s ears with decadence. Standing at the podium, she took a moment for admiration to wash over her. Every once and while it was nice to get recognition. She didn’t get this very often, this kind of personal acknowledgement, because her job took her away from it. She’d hear of herself in the news holos and read about her interstellar exploits in a cadet’s thesis, but rarely was she allowed the time or be in the right place to soak it in first hand.

Regina used the lingering applause to make her exit. This was the part she hated. If she didn’t move fast enough a stampede of overzealous fans would corner her into signing their uniform caps or plead with her to tell her whole life story right then and there. Really, someone should have drawn a line at the ‘meet and greet.’ After a three hour long lecture it was the very last thing in the universe Regina had patience for.

As usual, Regina bypassed the ‘autograph table’ and slipped out the back before the oncoming rush trapped her. She gave a disgusted click of her tongue. They swarmed like a colony of Varma bats. As much as she liked to believe these students came for the stellar advice and rich storytelling, it was anything but. Their number one priority didn’t include a lesson in ethics and protocol. All they cared about was shaking her damn hand so they could tell their friends they met the great Regina Mills. While her ever-rising prestige never failed to bring a spring in her step, she’d rather not come in contact with any eager limbs, lips, or requests for letters of recommendation. She grimaced at the late memory of one anxious student who had the gall to plant her unsanitary mouth on the good captain’s cheek.

Regina stalked out the back door and stayed on guard until she heard the satisfying click of the door sealing shut (the gaggle of fangirls and fanboys dejectedly snubbed from the other side).

“Never again,” she muttered for the seventh and (hopefully) final time of her career.

At five o’clock the sun was beginning its dip behind the Presidio’s vast landscape of skyscrapers. The air carried with it a biting chill and Regina tied the belt of her trench coat tighter. Her black, knee-length coat wrapped comfortably around her body and concealed her uniform from passersby. She meant to travel outside the buzz of elitist pride and wealth for the humdrum of the suburbs.

Where anonymity was crucial inside the circle of embassies and government officers, outside was a different matter. Despite her well-known reputation, she knew from experience the suburbs wouldn’t notice. Normal folk didn’t care about Presidio execs. They barely acknowledged their presence to one another on either side of the fence.

It only took a short ten minute cab ride to reach a place of memory. Regina walked down a sidewalk of one of the quaint squares. The streets were not glamorous but charming in a rustic sort of way. She passed boulangeries and butcheries, coffee and tea sellers, print shops and bookshops, antique nooks and toy store corners, and vintage clothing sprees. Their transparisteel entryways were sparkling enough for her to do some passing window shopping.

It thrilled Regina to be able to sight see without having to resort to a map. She could enjoy the smells of the shops and the flapping pages of books for sale, scan the chalkboard à la cartes for specials, anything at her leisure. Her enjoyment wouldn’t have been possible without the familiarity that came with it. The fact, however, that she didn’t have anyone to share it with posed little gratification in the long run.

Surrounded by Old World brick and charm, Regina felt something heavy within her chest plummet like a meteor. Being in the suburbs again was a shock to her system. She had no reason to return here, not for two years. Since Emma resigned, Regina made a point not to stay on Earth too long, and when she did find herself there she never ventured outside the Presidio where the suburbs lie with their local businesses and pancake diners. There was just no reason to. Deep down the thought of trailing those cracking sidewalks and glancing through toy shop windows brought a prickling tear to the corner of her eye.

Regina recalled her “intrusion” on Emma earlier the other day. She hadn’t planned on asking her to come back. All Regina intended the visit to achieve was a show of good faith, not towards Emma but Kathryn. She knew her friend well enough that a simple transmission wouldn’t do. Kathryn would have badgered her day and night, nudged her at blaster point if need be, to push Regina towards this closure she spoke of.

All Regina wanted from this week on Earth was to appease Kathryn. But Emma just had to be her bull-headed self. Regina came there with half an olive branch in expectation that the other half would be carried by the lieutenant commander-turned-mechanic. Regina tried to be nice. Truthfully, it irked her better judgment, but she did make an effort. In return she received snorts of derision, half-hearted challenges, and a good-for-nothing smirk.

“Argh!”

Walking down the sidewalk, Regina’s heel came down through her stride to strike duracrete. She made loud, angry strides, huffing and flipping her hair roughly to the side as if it wronged her. Frustration consumed her so that she hardly noticed the quizzical stares as she passed by.

Why in seven hells had she offered Emma’s job back? It was like she had no control over her voice. Two years ago she would see it as stooping to the lowest level possible, but something in her begged to differ. In fact, it clawed from behind her ribcage to ask.

My gods, she thought. I nearly groveled at her toe-scuffed boots.

Regina wouldn’t back down. Yielding to failure wasn’t in her nature and neither was walking away. A captain always finished what they started, and Regina would have her way even if it meant breaking a promise.

She reached the park with plenty of sunlight to spare. Children of all ages clamored over the playground equipment while their parents watched from the picnic tables. Regina’s stride faltered and slowed to a meandering walk. She hugged the fringes of the park, hiding from view until she scrounged the nerve. By the time she spotted them her courage barely reached approaching level. Swallowing hard, she did so anyway.

* * *

 It was their usual time and their usual spot. They frequented this park in particular because of the winding slide and the trim, fuzzy grass for lying out on during story time. 

“Henry, you have to follow-through on your throws. It’s a critical part of pitching in baseball.”

“But I don’t wanna play baseball. I wanna play dodge discus!”

“It’s too dangerous, Henry. I’ve told you before. You’re not old enough.”

“You said you played at my age!”

Emma glanced down at the ball she tossed in her hand and mumbled, “Sure didn’t fool the authorities.”

Dodge discus was a rough and tumble sport with a heavy penalty. Though strictly forbidden by those 16 and younger, even the mature, more athletic players suffered concussions from lurking disks. Many who were not of age took to the streets to try their hand at the twist on Old World dodgeball. Emma herself risked life and limb to play. Heavy, blunt edged discs were her way of getting back at bullies and ex-foster brothers. The games were cathartic, until the police showed up.

“Just don’t do it, kid,” Emma found herself saying. She shook her head. What a shining example of parenting she was.

Henry grumbled something unintelligible to her ears and threw back a wobbly curve ball.

Emma caught it in her worn leather glove and threw it back. “Hey, if you don’t keep your eyes on where you’re throwing, the ball will –“

Henry’s aim proved perfect on his next pitch. The target of his wide-eyed stare allowed his throw to soar high above his mother (way out of reach of her glove) and strike the ground just inches from Regina’s feet. It tumbled on impact and rolled in the grass until it tapped her shoe at journey’s end.

Emma turned to locate the ball just as Henry started hesitantly towards her. Emma’s eyes were shocked open by Regina’s presence. Her mouth opened and closed. Surprise came first; she didn’t know why the captain was here, in the park, many miles from her precious Presidio. Of all the places that beckoned a very busy commander of the fleet. Then an oncoming rush of anger sang through Emma’s veins. Her face went red as she clenched her teeth. What the hell was she doing here? Had she come back to berate her some more? Whatever the reason, Emma didn’t appreciate being harassed on her time off any more than she did at work.

Her eyes then widened as she realized they weren’t alone. Emma looked down to Henry who had grown several inches over the years. Although he was still short for his age, the top of his head nearly reached her hip. As she cherished his youth, the agitation that had recently rose to the surface of her flushed skin paled to a simmering level. She was still enraged, but less so when Henry was by her side. He could comfort her grouchy flames because he was the last person in the galaxy she’d want to get caught in them. With him, vendettas weren’t worth the trouble.

Regina waited for the vibroax to fall. She had picked up the baseball, half in favor of using it to defend herself, the other half using it as a distraction. Between wrapping up her lecture and encroaching on a family’s play time, she had prepared herself for another one of Emma’s petulant tirades, knowing her intrusion was nothing if not improper. The flaming red cheeks told Regina she wasn’t wanted. But then she watched as Emma looked down to her son. The transformation proved delicate – no one else would have caught the subtle changes. The hardness around Emma’s eyes softened, her jaw untightened, and her throat bobbed to nervousness. Regina panned anxiously from Emma to Henry, wondering what would transpire between them and what it would mean for her.

But Henry wasn’t consulting his mother. He wasn’t walking towards her either. No, Regina hushed to herself. Henry was looking at _her_ , and walking _towards her_. Regina felt her heart leap into her throat. She couldn’t speak if she wanted to, even if she had any idea of what to say.

Regina’s trim, manicured nails scrapped over the laces of the baseball. Its weight seemed to grow heavier in her grasp and she just gripped it tighter. She remembered the promise she made to herself to never see this boy again, to never allow him to weasel back into her heart with that goofy smile and his constant need to overlook her faults.

The baseball slid from her limp fingertips and bounced to the ground. Her knees nearly buckled as she felt the comfort of Henry in her arms again.

“Oh, my goodness!” she gasped as Henry barreled into her. Using his momentum, she swept his weight off the ground and into a snug embrace. She couldn’t bear to wipe the grin off her face.

He was everything safe and gentle in her world. To have him back again, if only for a little while, brought Regina to a whole new level of happiness. The universe had meaning now. Anything seemed possible. His touch turned every durasteel part of her to something supple and snuggly warm. And yet with his arms about her neck she never felt stronger, never more complete.

He pulled back with the widest, most beautiful smile Regina had ever seen.

“Oh, you’re so tall and handsome! I bet you can reach the handlebars of a speeder!”

Henry giggled. “I’m not _that_ tall!”

“You’ve still grown much since I last saw you. Have you begun your studies?”

He nodded vigorously. “I started first grade. I’m six!”

“You are?” Regina’s eyes broadened fantastically. She chuckled at her rapidly beaming company. His whole body waggled like a throttling ion engine, so she just held on tighter, blessed with a reason to do so. “It must be exciting to start on the road to flight school. I remember my first years. I couldn’t wait to begin.”

“But it’s so long!” The whole of his weight seemed to deflate with the complaint. “I’ll never get there!”

“It will go by fast. I promise. You will be ready for the academy in no time,” she said, finishing with a touch of her finger to the tip of his nose. He gave her a toothy smile in return.

Regina caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Emma’s silhouette came into view before the sunset and loomed closer. Regina couldn’t find it in her to fume at the interruption. Although she lowered Henry back to the ground she wouldn’t tolerate an end to their reunion. Settling on one knee, Regina stayed crouched beside him with a long arm around his waist and keeping him snuggly near.

“Hey, Henry, can you play on the slide or something? I need to talk with Captain Mills.”

Brown strands rustling in the wind, his head tilted up at his mother. He must have been giving her quite the stare down because Emma began to shift on her feet and nibble at her lip.

She allowed it with a short nod. “You can continue your conversation with the captain later. Now go on.”

Regina was loath to let him go, but Henry had always been an obedient child. Her fingers slipped reluctantly from his retreating body and she watched him run for the playground. She stood chuckling as he scrambled up the stepladder and pushed himself down the slide with a joyfully, “Lift ooooff!”

“This is low, even for you.”

Regina paid no mind to the inflamation encircling Emma’s eyes. If she had she would have noticed the dampness on Emma’s knuckles.

“Yet you claim I never change,” she remarked evenly. “Just why do you think I came here? You must have some idea flying around in that thick head of yours.”

“You still can’t take ‘no’ for an answer. You have to come into my neighborhood –“

“Oh, I _do_ apologize,” Regina mocked, touching her heart solemnly. “I thought this was a free planet.”

“You have to come into my neighborhood and intrude on my time with my son. You come into his life again like you haven’t been around for two years…” Emma blinked back tears and reared forward, pointing a finger at Regina threateningly. “He hasn’t seen you for two years, Regina. He doesn’t get a blasted holo from you. Do you know what that does to a child? Do you know what leaving does to them?”

Regina’s chest spasmed. Her insides felt like acid, eating away at her ribcage and bubbling to the surface. She exhaled shallowly, forcing her own grief at bay. Although aware of how her sudden appearance might affect Henry, Regina would damn herself to another Korobi ambush before she felt shame for expressing her joy at seeing him again. To do so would be a graver sin than she ever before committed.

“This isn’t about him,” she claimed, shocked that it came out as clear as it did. This wasn’t even about Emma and the irony of her isolated childhood.

“And yet you’re asking me to leave him.”

“You did so before – countless times.”

“And look where it got him. I nearly lost him. I was betrayed by the only person I could trust to care for him. Mulan stabbed me in the gut for gods’ blasted sake!”

“That’s not the reason why you left. If it was, then you would have tendered your resignation the moment we left Xelphi Six to space dust. If you took Henry’s safety as an issue higher than that of your duty to billions of children in the galaxy, you wouldn’t have stayed on another six months.”

“I can’t believe this! You’re blaming me for choosing my kid over Cosmofleet? Are you spaced out?”

“That’s not what I meant, Miss Swan, and you know it. Don’t put words in my mouth.” Regina coaxed her temper down with a long, deep breath and let it out slowly. “You worried for Henry after the Raider incident, I’ll give you that. But it wasn’t your reason for leaving. Whatever your reasoning, I don’t care, not at the moment. I am asking you to return to your post. I am asking you to do what is best for yourself and your son. You know this more than I.”

Regina couldn’t figure out for the life of her why the woman persisted blind to reason. Maybe the problem lied with Emma’s character. She thought so highly of her streetwise _I can pilot anything with a repulsor_ attitude. This kind of pride made it impossible to reach a compromise. Emma hated when her captain proved her wrong just as Regina did when the tables were turned.

“I built a life for myself and my family,” Emma said. “On Earth we don’t have to worry about a fleet of Raiders or a homicidal commander and her bizarre crusade against them. I don’t have to sacrifice my despicable life for a superior who doesn’t give a blast whether I get cooked well done in an ion generator or die in an attempt to save her from her mutinous crew. I don’t deal with that kind of shit here. Cosmofleet doesn’t have to follow-up on me. I’m not a threat to them or myself, so don’t you pretend to be concerned about my welfare. I’m doing just fine on my own, thank you very much.”

After a once over, Regina raised a condescending brow. “You don’t look fine, dear.”

“Oh, screw you! You don’t know shit about me, Regina. If you did you’d know using my kid is the very last straw of patience I have in holding myself back from stunning your ass back to the fleet.”

Regina wasn’t fooled. She certainly didn’t _see_ a blaster on the woman. Even if there was, by rights, she probably deserved a blaster shot or two. Emma had every right to protect her son. Regina never intended to use Henry because she just didn’t think it’d take much to persuade Emma back. No high-ranking officer resigned the fleet at the age of 28 and returned to a civilian life on Earth. No pilot who had seen the marvels of space travel would go back to a life of monotony and speeder repairs. Emma wasn’t meant to keep her feet on solid duracrete.

Regina didn’t intend to use Henry, but if it worked… so be it.

“I may be using Henry, but at least I’m not using him as a shield. At least I’m not using him as an excuse not to face a life I mistakenly turned my back on. That is all on you, Miss Swan, so if you want to make this about him, fine. But remember: you have left him before. The only difference now is he’s older. He knows why you have to do this. He _understands_ , Emma.”

Emma was already violently shaking her head before she registered the sound of her name. “You don’t. You don’t know him.”

Regina closed in until there was but a pace between them. She waited there, waited for Emma to detect the meaning in her eyes. “I see him,” she said softly. “His eyes… He knows you better than you know yourself. He will understand.”

The shaking of her own head convinced Emma that it would solve all her problems. She continued the motion as it distracted her from the anguish and terror she would feel at disserting Henry again. She didn’t know why Regina was pushing. She hadn’t a clue why her returning to the _Storybrooke_ meant so much to the captain. One thing was for sure: Regina always had an angle. She never asked for something without there being a catch. She would reap every advantage she could out of a deal and leave Emma in the lurch.

Enough was enough. Emma spent far too much of her life caring what Regina thought. She spent too many hours wondering what she wanted and why she did the things she did. Enough.

“Did you think I would be miserable?” Emma asked. She gave one last shake of her head, clearing her mind of grief. All it did was cloud her judgment. “Is that what you want from me? Did you want me to have a shitty life just because I blew you off? Well, you can have it. I _am_ miserable. Ever since I left the _Storybrooke_ there’s been this emptiness eating away at me because I am miserable without you!”

Regina asked softly enough it barely passes for audible, “Is that the truth?”

Emma faltered. She covered the lapse with a steely frown. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Commander.”

Stepping back as if stunned, Regina blinked. Her throat felt dry and uncooperative. She retreated another pace, her heels skimming over grass. No one rocked her like this. No one.

“Go!” Emma shouted, hysterical and lividly red in the face. “I don’t want to see you around here anymore. Stop trying to conform me against my will, and if you get within _viewing_ distance of my son, you will be sorry.”

Regina shot a lingering stare at Henry who was playing obliviously on the low incline climbing wall. It pained her to leave. Without a goodbye it resembled a similar scenario that played out two years ago when Emma handed her a two weeks’ notice. She wasn’t able to say goodbye to Henry then. They were never able to say things their hearts needed to say much less able to spare one last look at each other. She blamed Emma for that cold break like she did so now.

This time, Regina left without a smile.

* * *

A few days later at The Classic the Swans enjoyed a pleasant lunch. The Old World retro diner sparked a sentimental feeling due to their frequenting this establishment since Henry was born. Emma liked to claim her son could eat a healthy stack of pancakes by the time he was a month old, but Henry just giggled ecstatically at the exaggeration. Either way, he made her a proud mother whether he could eat like a horse or not. As long as he wasn’t wasteful and said his “please’s” and “thank you’s,” she would keep taking him to the diner till they put her six feet under.

That afternoon Henry and Emma sat across from each other at their favorite booth across from the soda fountain bar. Henry plowed through a stack of pancakes with a small side of fruit (at his mom’s behest), while Emma enjoyed a greasy hamburger and fries. They munched their food in silence, each lost in thought. Unwittingly, they shared the same one track mind, the same mind which obsessed over one singular individual: Captain Mills.

Emma never thought she’d see Regina and Henry together again. It didn’t seem plausible. In her desperation, she hoped that Henry would forget his bestest, prettiest friend (his words) and all the times they shared. It would only hurt him in the long run if he held fast to the memory of the captain. Emma felt for him, though. It couldn’t have been easy to throw her away, the enigmatic woman who ate pancakes with him and saved his life no less.

And yet after two years with no contact, Henry went running to her like no time had gone by at all. Emma remembered watching with a heavy heart how Henry’s and Regina’s eyes lit up. They embraced and smiled and affirmed how much they missed one another by the luminosity in their eyes. Emma herself tried and failed to hold back the tears. Regina genuinely missed Henry. She could have easily admitted to loving him because he was so open to it. He was her exception.

Emma understood because it was the same with her. When it came to others, people who were not family, Emma had a stubborn heart and was just as uncertain as Regina in letting them in. But with Henry she couldn’t keep her heart from leaping out of her chest. It grew bigger at every smile he flashed, pumped harder and faster to each scraped knee, and wept at the sound of his whimpering nightmares.

But then reality came rushing back. Their reunion wouldn’t last forever. Cosmofleet prevented Regina from staying even if she wanted to. It all left Emma in an awkward position. Sometimes being a parent meant making heartbreaking decisions to protect your children. In doing so, Emma had fisted away her tears and banished her sweet boy from the only other adult in his life whom he cherished.

So damn Regina if Emma and Henry didn’t have a good thing going before she showed up. Damn her for reminding Emma what she left behind and how much Emma couldn’t breathe without it. Gods, even right there in the park she felt trapped in an airlock with all the precious oxygen sucked out. And damn Regina for being so blasted argumentative! The woman wouldn’t shut up!

Thus Emma would not feel guilty or embarrassed for evicting the captain from their park. And no, she would not go back on her threat to keep Regina from Henry. There was no reason to when her business with Captain Mills was finished. She made up her mind. She couldn’t accept the offer to return to the fleet because the only person that could make her say yes didn’t have the guts to admit what she really wanted. Regina may be whip smart and an incredibly gifted strategist, but she was incapable of being reasonable at the risk of her image.

Slouching in her booth, Emma watched the bubbles in her soda fizzle to the surface. She had been sneaking glances at Henry since leaving the park a few days ago. She did so now, subtly from across the booth and hoping he hadn’t noticed. She watched him relentlessly, ready to tend to the questions swirling in his head.

She picked up a fry and ate it. Chewing slowly, she peered carefully at her son’s ‘pancakescapades.’ Henry persisted in an unusually quiet mood, so she slipped back into her thoughts.

 _Storybrooke’s_ mission launch was tomorrow. Though Emma didn’t want to dwell on it, she couldn’t help but wonder in the hours leading up to take off. The last shuttle will probably leave at noon. Captain Mills liked to run ahead of schedule so as to lead the welcome committee for incoming recruits and afford them enough time to get comfortable with their cabin assignments.

Once all personnel have been settled, informed, and dressed to the nines in their uniforms, it fell to the captain to order her helmsman to leave space dock. She’d run system check after system check and berate Leroy over hyperdrive status before even considering departure from orbit. Regina cared as much about the integrity of every bulkhead and screw of that ship as she did her own life. When she and she alone was satisfied, they were a mission “go.” Launch would commence at 1400-hours – give or take a minute if Regina nitpicked the angle of Rumple’s egress.

But Emma had to keep telling herself that she would not be embarking with the rest of them, not this time.

“Momma?”

She perked in her seat. “Yeah?”

Henry pushed the pancakes around his plate with his fork. “Why don’t you talk about her?”

“Captain Mills?” Emma’s eyes bulged. She had noticed his contemplative mood, but she didn't expect him to fess up. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you don’t.”

Wow, Emma thought. What a smart ass. Must be the Swan genes.

“Why was she here? What did she want?”

“Confidential stuff. You can ask me again when you’re a cadet. Not before, little pilot.”

Henry’s pout tested his mother’s mettle further.

“Come on,” whined Emma, face screwing into contortions. “Don’t do that.”

“I’m your son.”

“So… what, you get preferential treatment because you’re the kid of an ex-fleet officer?”

He tipped his head at the words “preferential treatment,” and looked as cute as ever.

She didn’t have anyone else to talk to about this. No one at Dusty’s shop cared to hear about her fantastic exploits on space stations and inhospitable planets any more than they wanted to hear her bitch about her ex-commanding officer.  She didn’t fit in there any more than she did when she first joined the _Storybrooke_. So with the only person she trusted sitting across from her and looking about to die without some sort of news, Emma came out with it.

“Alright,” she sighed. “Captain Mills came to offer my old job back.”

“They want you to fly starships?” Henry gasped, eyes growing bigger by the second.

“No,” she corrected, chuckling, “just one. She wants me to return to my old commission onboard the _Storybrooke_.”

“ _Cool_.” His ecstatic mood ratcheted up to nuclear levels as his feet began to swinging wildly under him, the heels of his tennis shoes bumping against the booth. “Can I come, Momma? Pleeease?”

“No way.” Emma scoffed more at the idea than at Henry. She realized how that sounded to him and quickly made to course correct away from an imminent tantrum. “Hey, little pilot, I would if I could, but children aren’t allowed on fleet vessels, you know that. And it’s way too dangerous. I can’t always be around to protect you. It’s a big, big ship and I have lots of responsibilities which include protecting all the other crew.” She frowned at her misstep and corrected, “ _Had_ responsibilities.”

“But I got to fly last time!” he maintained with every ounce of feeling available to a pint-sized six-year-old. “The lizard guy let me touch the buttons! And I got to use a comms piece from Rubees! And the cap’n gave me her shiny badge and let me sit in her big chair!”

Emma frowned at the memory. Even _she_ considered the gifting of a medal of commendation to be a bit forward on Regina’s part, but whatever. They were her honors to give away willy-nilly.

“Why can’t I go?” he pleaded, with a protruding bottom lip.

It devastated Emma to rain on this little parade, but it might devastate her more to hear that her son went blind from looking at the pretty purple glowing reactor or pressed the wrong hatch release on an airlock or got lost and kidnapped and held for ransom on any number of _Storybrooke’s_ decks in the hands of any number of lower ranked grunts. The scenarios ranged from outlandish to far-fetched, yet it all seemed plausible in Emma’s mind.

“That was a _very_ special exception, Henry. And you were in danger, so that definitely doesn’t count.”

His whole upper body fell with the sigh. He brought his foot up on the booth cushion and proceeded to pick at his shoe straps. His whole attention zeroed in on the activity as he asked quietly, “Does she not want me?”

“Want you _there_?” she asked dumbly. “Captain Mills?” He nodded. “Because she hadn’t been around to see you before?” He nodded, still invested in the Velcro on his light-up shoes. “You know, Henry… that’s not her fault. When I left two years ago to be home with you…”

What could she say? Just a few days ago she accused Regina of breaking his heart. Now it was her own fault? Now Regina needed defending? Oh, if only Regina were here. That’d be rich.

Emma shook her head to herself, rubbing at her forehead.

“When I left I had no reason to be around her, you know? I don’t work for her anymore. But she couldn’t resign too. She had to stay because it’s her job. She has a responsibility to her ship and her crew. Do you understand?”

His brow furrowed. True to Swan family fashion, he slouched down as if he committed some heinous crime and nibbled fitfully at his bottom lip.

“Having a family and staying in contact with friends is hard for people in Cosmofleet. When I flew with the _Storybrooke_ it was like living in seven he – I mean, it was like living in Varma bat poo not being able to be with you. I’m sure the captain would have visited you if she could.” Emma cocked her head, attempting a smile. “She seemed glad to see you again. She must have missed you.” His shoulders hitched, but no cigar. She ducked her head closer and tried, “From where I was standing you seemed pretty glad to see her to.”

He looked up at her, his eyes watery and his chin trembling. His lips opened in a hesitant smile and he nodded once.

Emma smiled back and nodded with him. Without a second’s thought, she reached for the syrup and leant over the table to slide it near him. When he glanced down and failed to take the bait, she tapped it bit by bit until the glass bottle touched his hand. She smiled a sneaky smile and winked.

He could hold back the smile for only so long. Where his mother’s wily antics were concerned, he just couldn’t help it. He smiled wide, the delight reaching his sparkling eyes.

As predicted, Henry didn’t waste any time in dousing his pancakes with more syrup. When someone gives you an extra helping of sugar, you take it, no questions asked.

“So you’re going back to the ship?” he asked around a mouthful of extra sticky pancake.

She shook her head, tipping her soda back.

“Why _not?!_ ”

Emma snorted up some of her drink at the outburst. She bent, coughing into her palm and wiping the tears from her eyes. “Whoa, calm down, kid. I’m not leaving you again. That’s a good thing.”

“But you gotta go! You gotta go back – you gotta!”

“Why on Earth do I ‘ _gotta’_? Is my six-year-old giving me an ultimatum?”

“You gotta go so you can tell me stories. I miss your stories.”

Emma’s head jerked back. “What’s wrong with the stories I tell now?” she asked, taking offense at the likelihood that she didn’t tell good bedtime stories. What in seven hells? Her stories were great! They were stellar!

“But they’re old. I want new ones!”

“Well, we can go online and buy some,” she sang with a waggle of her head.

“Moom-maa,” he droned.

“Whaa-taa?”

Henry shot her solemn, meaningful puppy eyes. “Why don’t you wanna go back to the starship?” he asked, like it was the most innocent question in the galaxy.

“Kid, do you remember when I worked on the _Storybrooke_?”

“A little. I remember it being really huge!”

“Well, do you also remember us being apart for months at a time? We could only talk to each other through hologram. I couldn’t attend those riveting parent/teacher conferences or play with you or cook dinner for you. Henry,” Emma sighed, shifting her head from one hand to the other and weighing on it heavily, “if I go back to my old job then that means we can’t have these nice lunches at The Classic. We won’t be together as much as we are now.”

The reality seemed to be setting in. He tucked his hands under his thighs and tottered from side to side. He tipped his head oddly and stared at a vague spot on the table. The kid fidgeted a lot when he was using extra brain power. Emma could totally sympathize.

“So you know what that means?”

“Yeaaah.”

His voice dragged off weakly. Emma felt the uncertainty in it as he stared back down at his plate.

“You should go, Momma. I’m a big boy now.”

Emma leaned back, inhaling shakily. She swallowed. Gods, he was growing up right in front of her as they spoke. She could already feel the tears building. If she left Earth, she’d never get to witness this. He’d develop and mature and live his life while Emma journeyed billions of parsecs away. A hologram wouldn’t be the same. Not touching him and smelling him would make her go mad as a spaced out pirate.

He gave her a little grin and said, “Outer space needs you more.”

Emma bit back a sob, turning away towards the bar area. She pressed her fist against her trembling mouth and breathed through her nostrils. She felt all the blood leave her face. She was going to be sick. How could she be so sick as to consider abandoning her own child on fucking _Earth_?

But when she looked back she felt renewed of hope. Henry was giving her a smile that told her everything would be alright. _I can take care of me_ , it said. _Go take care of you._

“You are so important to me, you know that?”

The attention span of a six-year-old was less than that of an atom. Or at least it seemed that way to their parents. Henry stared down the last bit of pancake on his plate, tongue roving mindlessly over his sticky lips in strategizing his next move. Legs swinging, he nodded distractedly.

Humphing to herself, Emma exited her side of the booth and slid in next to him. She lifted him into her lap so she could better smell the shampoo of his hair. She inhaled his scent. A troublesome sensation sprouted from deep within her, a feeling she hadn’t experienced since she last set off Earth. Terrified that her son might sense her trembling, she squeezed him tighter. “My little pilot. I love you.”

He smacked his syrupy lips to her cheek. “Love you, Momma.”

When they finished their meal and paid (Emma pitched in), she steered her son onto one of the bar stools. She waved over a waitress both she and Henry knew well after many trips to The Classic and asked her to watch him for a few minutes. Henry seemed perfectly content perched on a stool and perusing an apple pie in its glass container.

Stepping outside, Emma retrieved her comlink and entered in a number she dusted off from memory. As she waited for the device to hail the recipient Emma peered through the transparisteel. Henry was seen with his nose pressed up to the glass pie case. She smirked, shaking her head. You weren’t a Swan if you didn’t drool over the pie selection after a pancake brunch.

Her palm-sized comlink chirped. Sparing a glance at her only child, Emma cast away her doubts and long-held fears and raised the device to her lips.

“Yeah, this is Emma Swan. Can you patch me through to Commander Mills’ office? I’m sure she’s expecting my call.”


	3. Chapter 3

Emma packed her bag with mere minutes to spare. It didn’t surprised her that after two years out of Cosmofleet she still remembered what to bring: the essential clothes, personal comlink and tablet, and a few hand-drawn pictures Henry sent with her. She always packed light, a trick she picked up from her days in the foster system. The need to retain few possessions sort of carried over into her adulthood. She wasn’t going to complain. Checking one bag at the airport cut back on a shipload of waiting in line.

If Emma were in a joking mood she’d say everything fit in the duffle besides Henry. With him that was all she needed, all she wanted. Anything missing or forgotten could be supplied by the _Storybrooke_ , but it wouldn’t replace the loved ones you left behind on Earth. The ship, despite it’s ranking in her life as a second home filled with friends and colleagues, just didn’t allow her the one thing in her life she couldn’t live without. Damn the fleet and their rules.

With zero time to wave goodbye to her home planet, Emma jumped the last shuttle to _Storybrooke_. The ride there couldn’t have been longer. It was amazing, really, the number of doubts that ran through her head. She spent the whole time chewing at her nails and worrying about whether this was a stellar idea.

Technically, even if she aborted the shuttle captain didn’t have the clearance to turn back. The guy’s just doing his job – get the recruits into orbit, dock with _Storybrooke_ , and return to surface. If Emma really wanted to abort she could just incapacitate the shuttle officers, swipe a blaster, and threaten the captain to turn back, but that _might_ put her in a bad position, not to mention the brig.

If Emma was resuming her role as first officer, she couldn’t very well co-command 400 crew members with a slew of bad thoughts in her head. She had to step up and become what these people needed her to be. So in the 15 minutes it took the shuttle to arrive at the docking station Emma had to do a mental overhaul on her priorities.

The captain’s voice came through the speaker to inform passengers that they had made berth with the _Storybrooke_. The shuttle filled with chatter, both nervous and excited. Most of them were cadets fresh out of the academy while other recruits had only seen a few months of action.

As the passengers fidgeted in their seats, waiting for the green light to board, Emma leaned over her armrest to check the view out her porthole. All she could see was a silvery white hull and a cascade of flashing lights that directed the shuttle towards its dock. The surface of the hull shined like brand new. If one were to do an EVAC inspection and give the exterior a good bashing with a spanner it would come away smooth and polished as before. If the hull wasn’t comprised of durasteel, the crew would be more hesitant about going into battle than if they weren’t protected by the super strong material.

To any civilian, the silver hull filling her viewport was as mundane as a scrap of metal heading for the garbage compactor, but to Emma it was so much more. After nearly a year of living onboard, she knew every corner and crevasse. The smells, the sounds, the gag-tastic taste of Leroy’s home brew… Anyone who lived there long enough to call it home could recognize it out of a thousand of its class.

She remembered back to her first shuttle ride out to the _Storybrooke_. Emma’s eyes had glazed over the lines and grooves of the hull that made it incomparable to any other. She experienced the same thrill at becoming a part of this famous starship. It sang through her veins like adrenaline.

To this day, the _Regal_ -class ship was still tasked with the riskiest missions assigned to any fleet vessel. Its accomplishment rate was second to none. And it rivaled other ships not only in its ability to carry out operations but in its construction too. The _Storybrooke_ was fitted with the lightest and strongest metals known to their solar system and powered by a state-of-the-art sublight drive. Emma would bet her life savings that it still flew like a thing of beauty. After 30 years of service the _Storybrooke_ had a lot left in her. Emma just hoped she could personally ensure them to the old girl.

When she heard the dull clank of the docking clamps locking in place, she shook off sentimentality and dried her palms on her jeans. Like her first shuttle arrival, Emma experienced a twinge of anxiety. Would she be welcomed with open arms? Or would the _Storybrooke_ and its crew continue to resent her last departure? It had been two years since she’d seen most of them. All bets were off.

Given the all clear, the recruits walked single file through the umbilical taking them from the shuttle through the docking station. From there a senior officer led them into a yawning hanger filled with a team of starfighters, two shuttles, and mounds of equipment and cargo.

Emma trailed from behind, hand stuffed in her pockets, and resisted the urge to chuckle. The recruits were so green their jaws were welded to the floor.

They managed to form their lines despite the need to take in every inch of the monstrosity surrounding them. They squabbled amongst each other to get the best spot at the head of their lines, not aware that the captain would move between the rows to scrutinize every single face.

Emma rolled her eyes.

Their faces turned ashen at the hiss of a hatch opening. Before any of them had the chance to toss their cookies, they clicked their heels together on instinct. Yes, meeting one’s commander for the first time had a tendency to turn one’s stomach.

Lieutenant Commander Swan, the only exception to those nerves, hung back from the two parallel lines arranged for the captain’s arrival. Their structured, tight positions were to please her, and sure enough, Captain Mills smiled, pleased. She walked into the hanger, hands clasped behind her back. When she reached the end of their lines she stopped with a click of her boot heels. She breathed in for a moment, tilting her chin up as if to give them all a good look at her (or was she getting a good look at them?).

“I hope you all had a pleasant flight,” the captain began with a widening of her red-tinted lips. “You are the last shuttle to arrive, though not the least important. No matter your rank or duty it is a privilege and an honor to serve aboard this stately vessel. You will be working amongst a diverse group never before enlisted in Cosmofleet. We are of different minds, colors, religions, and species. We all have unique perspectives to lend to a mission. You will be collaborating with skilled technicians and field officers, doctors and nurses, cooks and janitors… I can go on but I don’t want to keep you here all week. Every one of us has a purpose. Every one of you is encouraged to grow beyond expectation.”

Drawing a breath, Captain Mills scanned up and down the lines as if she were hunting for a target. Whatever, or whomever, she was looking for didn’t appear, so she sniffed and began her slow, meticulous walk down the lines.

“If you have not recognized my significance by now: I am Captain Regina Mills, your new commanding officer. I expect each and every one of you to go above and beyond –“

Blah, blah, blah, Emma thought to herself as she crossed her arms.

As the captain droned on, Emma hung in the background, leaning back against a cargo crate. She got comfortable by crossing her ankles and settling her eyes on something interesting like one of the fighters’ exhaust vents. Having been through this orientation before, Emma knew how long the captain dragged out a welcome speech. Unlike the straight standing recruits, she didn’t pay much attention to the words. Instead, Emma took the time to study the captain.

The first thing that struck her was Regina’s beauty. It had been there before, of course – the beauty, that was. Anyone with eyes and a limbic system could register the woman’s attractiveness on the supernova end of the spectrum. Regina had these smoky brown eyes that drew you in whether you liked it or not. Emma had caught herself on several occasions staring at her boss with her jaw hanging open like a monger fish. It wasn’t all her fault. The captain could make things a little less distracting by not wearing clothes that hugged every subtle curve of her bodice, hips, and calves. Consequently, it would be less intimidating to Emma who couldn’t look that hot if she tried.

But she was beautiful in other ways, too: the way she walked, tall and proud; the honeyed timbre of her voice which could shock fear into trembling hearts or shivers along the arms that dreamed of holding her. Regina possessed mounds of talent in all areas taught at the academy and displayed so in her command style. Her ingenuity had no match in or outside the fleet. She was the very definition of tact, integrity, and perseverance. What made her feared gave her strength. What made her celebrated gave her confidence. People hated her as much as they loved her. She knew all too well, and yet rarely did it affect the way she carried out her duties.

Sometimes the great commander faltered. Sometimes she failed. People died, families buried loved ones, and grief was the only companion that stayed. A hand gripped so long on power didn’t loosen easily. A heartbroken woman didn’t forgive and forget without her revenge having been sated. Regina Mills wasn’t perfect. If one looked close enough they’d see the frayed edges, the worry lines, the ghosts in her shadow, haunting her at every step.

Emma knew first-hand how flawed Regina could be. It’s what drew her to the captain, still. Imperfection always came with a bit of mystery. It laid hints like bread crumbs, daring and teasing one into a spiraling black hole. There, in Regina’s black hole, Emma found darkness but also a bit of starlight.

“… Above all it is paramount that you do not disobey a direct order from me or your senior officers. I do not allow dissent aboard my ship…”

Oh, Emma thought. That was a big one. Regina didn’t take insubordination well. At all. Emma had learned that the hard way.

Slouched against the crate, Emma tipped her head to watch the captain walk between the rows. Every boot heel in front of the other struck the floor with purpose. She held herself with poise; chin level with the ground, eyes narrowed challengingly into those that dared stare back. Regina scanned each recruit she passed, checking the shine in their boots, the crisp cuffs of their uniform sleeves, and the top buttons of their fastened shirts. She must not have liked what she saw because her eyes narrowed at one of the men.

Emma chuckled into her hand. No one else caught the cue, but Emma did. The subtle lift of her chin, the pursed lips, and flair of her nostrils… Regina’s snootiness screamed out to Emma while the recruits took no notice. Emma fleetingly wondered if Regina meant her to know her tells this well. Spending long periods of time with someone on the same spaceship acquainted people with each other’s idiosyncrasies. With Regina, the queen of hostility, you really had to pay attention to the details. Emma picked up on the captain’s quirks in the short time she spent with her and was having a riot of a time.

The captain paused at a recent graduate sporting a half upturned collar. Her eyes soared up and over in a sign of disapproval. Emma snickered from the sidelines.

It hit her like a speeder every time – the allure Regina exuded. It smacked her square between the eyes that day Regina showed up at Dusty’s. Speechless, Emma couldn’t stop staring at every inch of that face and wondering how on Earth it felt like no time had passed since she last beheld that kind of radiance.

Looking at her now… Emma snagged her lip between her teeth and focused on the subtle things. Looking at her now, she detected a void in Regina. She couldn’t tell if it was there before because traces rarely showed back then. The light from Regina’s eyes, the glow to her skin, and the shine in her silky brown hair was lost. Where had it gone? Space, thought Emma. You spend so much time in space the vacuum sucks the life out of you. When you didn’t have anyone, when you isolated yourself in a ship of hundreds and work yourself to the bones, there’s not much radiance left.

Emma’s head dipped sadly. She stared at her shoes – scuff marks discolored the toe and the leather seemed worn enough. It terrified her to meet that woman’s eyes much less look at her when she was distracted.

Even after the captain wrapped her speech and the hatch sealed shut behind her, Emma was still wondering what in seven hells happened while she was gone for those two years.

* * *

The cabin door hissed closed behind her, making room for the steady hum of the ventilation. The ship’s air scrubbers helped recycle carbon dioxide exhaled by crew into oxygen which circulated through a complex system of aeration. When you lived on a ship long enough you get used to the perpetual drone of reconditioned oxygen hissing through the vents. Regina didn’t like noise any more than she liked the chatter of overenthusiastic recruits, but the wheezing ventilation greeted her like an old friend.

She breathed out a sigh of relief to be alone in her quarters. She sank into her chair. A portfolio lay open on her desk. Contained inside were her speech notes. In one smooth motion she flipped it closed and slid it to the side. She never needed the notes, of course. She used the outline every year and adlibbed in certain places. That morning her notes remained exposed but untouched. Sometimes just having it there in the open eased her mind. Like any captain, Regina liked back-up plans. Safety nets saved lives.

Like paperwork saved lives.

Regina smirked. She knew one person in particular who would disagree.

The thought of her first officer brightened her smirk. Persuading Emma to rejoin _Storybrooke_ turned out to be an unscheduled, yet successful endeavor. As usual, Emma displayed her hard-headedness, her uncouth mouth, and her ability to go toe-to-toe with the equally stubborn captain and live to tell about it.

But Regina had faced this challenge before. Countless times. Doing so again happened to be a wondrous and exciting turn of events. It shocked her how she missed collaborating (or rather collaborating unsuccessfully) with Emma. For two years she was oblivious of her longing for Emma’s argumentative nature, not to mention her rash bravery. She also missed her for entirely different reasons that made it close to impossible to do her job. Did Emma argue with her and survive the backlash because Regina let her? Did the very thought of being kept from Henry arrest her heart because she had one?

Whatever her reasons for doing so, rehiring Emma was certainly a boost to her ego. She felt productive for the first time in months. Regina, captain of the _Storybrooke_ , had a commission, a crew, a semi-reliable first officer (which was an improvement from the last), and a thirst for space travel. Furthermore, she felt like she could hire anyone she damn well pleased and Headquarters couldn’t say or do a blasted thing about it.

Regina smiled. The look on the admirals’ faces when she told them she was reinstating Emma Swan. Their shock probably resulted from her unmistakable threats and “I have it on good authority” sass. She may just have been a grunt commander doing their dirty work, but she could wipe the floor with the best of them.

The admirals had all but given her the keys to her kingdom. The _Storybrooke_ was hers, she informed them in no understated terms. She earned that ship as much as she earned the right to assemble its crew. And sure enough, Regina swaggered out of that conference room with an approved “request” in hand and a devilish smile on her face. She still couldn’t wipe the expression off. It stayed there like permanent marker.

As Regina commenced with the refreshing task of mission prep, the door indicated that she had a visitor. She rose from her chair and approached the door, a dreamlike grin still plastered unknowingly on her lips.

“Hey.”

“Miss Swan.”

Emma’s brow arched as she looked the captain over. “You sound happy. Did I get suspended already?”

“Because you used the buzzer this time instead of banging on the hatch like a Neanderthal? Why would you think that?”

“Oh, shucks, I don’t know. Because you like messing with me?”

“Do expound your meaning of my ‘messing with you.’”

“Invite me in and I’ll expound away.”

Regina was caught between a smirk and a glare. She’d have to get used to it. The woman’s attitude hadn’t changed much since being gone. Half amused and half antagonized, she motioned Emma in.

Emma went for the center of the room and made herself comfortable on the couch like she’d done it a thousand times. The familiarity of it caused Regina pause. Emma’s snark and her forsaking permission to sit felt like yesterday.

Regina took a seat on the white sofa across from her guest and tossed her hair back with a move of her head. “You were saying?”

“Right,” Emma said, holding the captain’s hard stare. Her eyes flicked away then like she’d been scalded. “Well, when I say that you like messing with me I just mean that you don’t seem to have made up your mind about me. Which is interesting because you’ve known me for a good bit.”

“I hardly think a year equates to a good bit, considering you’ve been gone for two.”

“Right, but you’re about as fickle as the stabilizers on an _L_ -class freighter. One minute you want me off your ship and the next you’re offering my job back. It’s no disrespect. I would just think that a captain like yourself had priorities and crap like that.”

Regina’s jaw had already dropped. “I never said that I wanted you off my ship!”

“You never said you wanted me on it. If you had any encouraging opinions you kept them to yourself. On the other hand, if they were negative, resentful opinions, you transmitted loud and clear.”

“Will you stop speaking for me?” Regina scolded. “I am not a neglectful captain. You knew perfectly well how I felt about the way you went about your job. It is not my fault you need constant recognition. If you needed more you should have read your performance reviews.”

“Oh, yeah, because those were glowing.”

Tilting her head, Regina shot her a pointed look. “Again, not my fault. You are responsible for your own actions aboard this ship. I just oversee them and try my hardest to keep you on the straight and narrow. It’s obvious from the way things turned out that I failed.”

Emma head lifted as if she were about to nod. Something about the way Regina said “failed” sounded sorrowful, like she didn’t expect to be disappointed. It struck Emma as curious because she always believed her captain thought the worst of her like the one time Regina had reached her wits end and used marker to draw up an _x days without accident/injury_ smack dab on the transparisteel viewport of the bridge. Her humor came off as gloomy, but Emma had to hand it to the captain who _rarely_ cracked jokes on or off the job.

Sinking back into the soft cushions, Emma threw her arm across the back of the sofa and crossed one leg over the other. The unladylike pose had its expected response in a most ladylike scoff. Emma simply grinned and said, “Guess it’s ‘take two’ for us, huh?”

“Miss Swan, if you are serious about this –“

“Only if you are.”

“Of course.” Regina waved a hand, rolling her eyes. “Do you think I pick up all my ex-first officers from the shipyards and offer their once and lifetime opportunities back?”

“Why?” Emma chuckled lightly. “Is it that humiliating for you? What do you think it’s like for me to get visited by my ex-commanding officer?”

“It should not be humiliating. You should feel lucky I even considered it.”

“One day you and I have to have that conversation about what exactly my predecessor did to get him fired. Or should I say successor? I don’t know. Whatever. What’s his name anyway?”

Unconsciously, Regina lounged back into the couch and sighed easily. “Lieutenant Commander Eugene Waylor. Or, rather, Eugene Waylor. He lost the title when I let him go.”

“ _Waylor?_ ” Emma’s head was thrown back by a cackle. “Did he, like, wail every time he screwed something up? Oh my gods, did you chew this guy out to tears or something? Because that I would love to see.”

“Fortunately for him, you will not be witnessing the poor man’s incompetence. I do not want to devote any more talk of Waylor. He used up my patience a long time ago.”

“Hm, the guy sounds like a prick.”

Regina’s head snapped up. “At least he stayed to do his job. Even when he made some irreversible error he persisted in making it right. He didn’t give up and he didn’t let down his crew!” She sucked in a breath, shocked at her outburst. It wasn’t her taking Waylor’s side that surprised her, but her inability to preserve her feelings about an event that took place long ago. Emma left two years ago and it still drudged up old bitterness and a touchy attitude.

Emma was beginning to think her resignation was a sensitive subject for Regina. Seven hells, it was a sensitive subject for Emma, too, but did it always have to involve bitching?

“Okay, here’s how this is going to go…” Emma propped her elbows on her knees and leaned forward with hands gesturing out. “You clearly have a blaster in your side about what happened. I get it, but you need to get over it.”

Completely affronted, Regina surged forward, nearly on the edge of her seat. “Excuse me –“

“Excuse _me_ ,” Emma interjected. “If we’re going to be working together again, I need to get a few things straight. Whatever happened is going to stay where it is: in the past. You and I are going to start fresh. That means no ill reminders of how awesome I am at fucking things up. No bitching each other out in front of the crew. I don’t like insubordination any more than you do. The last thing this ship needs is another mutiny against the captain _and_ the first officer.

“We have to show everyone we’re a united front,” she asserted, her tone as strong as the muscles in her gesturing hands. “That’s just as much of a priority as fulfilling a mission. The only reason our heads should butt is when a crisis needs to be cracked. I’ll admit our approaches to problem solving are enormously unalike, but maybe that’s what this commission needs: diversity. We have a second chance here to make something of ourselves – together. Let’s play nice this time, Regina. Okay?”

“Are you finished, dear?”

Emma thought for a moment before shrugging. “I think so.”

“Quite. Now _get a few things straight_ , Miss Swan. This is not a conditional reinstatement. I am your commander and you will do as commanded. I do not allow my people to go wherever and whenever they blasted well please. I can and will get over whatever feelings I have about you abandoning my ship at a time I see fit. And yes, I have a blaster in my side about what happened. I have every right to after I thought I had your trust.”

“Oh, gods,” Emma moaned. Her head caved to her hands. “Not this again.”

“You may have made it back onboard, but I need a good reason to keep you here as my second-in-command. I need assurances, Miss Swan. Durasteel assurances. You have to prove to me every day you are aboard my ship that I can rely on you. I will not allow you to leave at the drop of a hat. You cannot just quit without an explanation. Beyond that there is a procedure.”

“I filled out the two weeks’ notice!” Emma retorted. “I had a good reason and that’s all there is to it!”

Regina shook her head, matching Emma’s fuming expression. “Not a good enough reason for your captain.”

“Henry,” Emma ironed out simply. “He is the only reason _I_ need to quit any job whether it is my gods damned destiny or not.”

“Then you did not explain the situation well enough to _me_. If you had trouble caring for your son, I could have made arrangements.”

“What, arrangements for him to live on the ship? Are you spaced out? HQ wouldn’t hear of it!”

Regina stared at her good and hard. “After all this time, you really think I care what Command does and does not prohibit? I got you your job back and I even use smoke and mirrors when they so much as come within a lightyear of asking about the Raiders. Do you know how many inquiries I have faced since the Xelphi Six incident? And still I manage to keep that quiet. So, really, dear. Bringing a child Headquarters has no knowledge of onboard my ship is hardly what I deem a challenge.”

“Point taken,” Emma granted with a roll of the eyes. “But that’s sort of irrelevant as I’m not thrilled about hauling my kid to the Outer Reaches. The point I’ve been trying to make is that I made a decision. I followed protocol. Any normal captain would be satisfied.” She cringed after the fact. Regina wouldn’t like being compared to any “normal” person, captain or not.

“Well, I was not satisfied!” Regina exclaimed, shooting up from the couch.

Exhaling roughly, she rounded her sofa and began pacing from her desk to the other end of the room. Emma made quick work of following, eyes flying left to right due to the quarter’s small dimensions.

 “I deserved more than protocol and your stupid decisions! I should have earned a blasted – “ Regina cut herself off with a turn of her head. She clutched at her forehead and shut her eyes as if to close herself off to the goodbye she deserved. She may have only known Henry for a short amount of time, but the little boy didn’t have to do much to steal her heart. To this day he hadn’t let go of it. “It does not matter. It is two years passed and I suggest we both move on.”

Emma snorted at Regina’s classic transference of blame. She said “both” like sole blame was placed on Emma alone.

“Thankfully, some sense has been knocked into you to rectify your mistake. You have seen the light and returned to duty.” Regina gave a firm nod, absolute and no room for argument. “I would have preferred this phenomenon to strike you earlier, but better late than never.”

“Wow. I’m just knocked out by the waves of warm welcome you’re sending right now.”

“What would you prefer, dear? A party?”

“Not particularly, but I wouldn’t say no to a glass of that apple cider.” Emma flashed a grin, tamping down the urge to add a wink.

Sighing, Regina spoke to no one in particular, “Aboard no less than an hour and she wants to get drunk.”

Emma watched as the captain approached her beverage cart and prepared two glasses. “It’s not my fault you make such strong liquor.”

“It is when you’re not accustomed to the finer things in the universe.” She waved a hand over Emma’s attempt to retort. “But let’s not argue further. There are some things in Cosmofleet that take precedence over drink.”

“And yet here we are.” Taking the glass of cider, Emma settled back into the couch. She smiled slyly behind the lip of the crystal glass when Regina returned to her seat with a glass of her own. “If our heading is in the general direction of the Outer Reach than you have no argument from me. I may have been slumming it on Earth, but I still have a bone to pick with the people who kidnapped my son. I hear there are a few remnant terrorists out there in hiding.” Emma’s head turned to the side, a veil of blonde hair concealing her flushed cheeks as she muttered darkly, “Cowards.”

“So does that mean you will accept my terms and concur with my authority aboard this ship?” Regina clamped down on budding hope. “If not, I would like to know now before you spring it on me at a later, more ill-timed date.”

“Yes!” snapped Emma, a little angrier than anticipated.

Furrowing a brow, Regina leaned back to take in the woman’s appearance. She had turned from sarcastic to haggard in under a centon. “You don’t have to shout.”

“Sorry.” Emma’s body sagged to the weight of embarrassment. Her forefinger tapped against the cider glass in a nervous rhythm. “I didn’t mean to shout. It’s just… I guess I’m not used to close spaces. I never did get used to claustrophobic star travel. At least in a simulator I know I can get out whenever I want and breathe fresh non-recycled air.

“Well, if it is that great an issue, I can recommend you to the local counselor. Her name is Dr. Kathryn Nolan. Deck C.”

Emma’s head turned a bit, studying the captain’s wording. Just when she thought Regina was being serious she caught a hairline tilt of her lips and let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “Oh, wow. Looks like someone developed a sense of humor while I was gone.”

Regina clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes. “As much as you like to think, you are not at the center of the universe, Miss Swan. I can articulate a perfectly appropriate joke without your help.”

Emma’s head dipped low in a nod. “I can see that.”

“Condescension will get you nowhere.”

“You’re smiling, so I didn’t offend.”

“Oh, please,” Regina droned. It took more effort than usual to purse her lips shut. Of all the things she hadn’t prepared for about Emma Swan it was her rascally wit. Her ability to worm past defenses just astounded sometimes. Now she knew where Henry got it from.

Suddenly, a nagging anxiety rushed to the forefront of Regina’s attention. She feared her question might be overstepping as it had been made crystal clear that she was to have no contact with him. Inevitably, the need to quell her curiosity overcame. “And Henry… I assume you have made arrangements for him now that you are returning to your post here?”

At first, Emma appeared like she would breathe a solar flare of punishment on Regina for bringing the subject up. But then her eyes softened and her hackles fell. With a mother’s instinct reined under control, Emma allowed the question with a small smile. “Yeah. An old friend from academy is taking care of him. We’ve known each other for a while and he’s been a big help to Henry. They bond over manly things, I guess. But Henry’s only six, so what can he do with August that he can’t do with me?” Emma shook her head because she didn’t really get it sometimes. “The best part is Henry’s new babysitter is not a terrorist. Although we were friends during our time at the academy, I did some research on his whereabouts since graduation. The guy’s about as harmless as a ladies man with a curfew.”

Regina smirked and touched her hair. She had been occasionally sipping from her glass whilst quietly listening. She did not expect such forwardness, but appreciated the details nonetheless.

“He’s also the least judgmental person I know. When I returned Earthside I kind of felt like he needed to know about Henry. I mean, I had to deal with the whole _Storybrooke_ knowing, so how hard could telling an old buddy from flight school be? He took it well. Pissed as seven hells, though, that he didn’t know he had a nephew.” Emma caught the confused look and explained, “Uncle August. That’s what Henry calls him. No blood relation, just two dudes who hang out, drink milkshakes, and babble on about how soon the kid can grow scruff to catch the ladies’ eyes.” Emma shrugged. Before taking a swig from her cider she said, “He’s a good guy. I trust him and, more importantly, Henry does, too.”

Taking it all in, Regina recrossed her legs and stared off into space. A part of her itched to meet the man for herself. She had a feeling her own investigation into his credibility would be a great deal lengthier than Emma’s. As a commander she had better resources and superior tools of interrogation. She’d put this August under severe duress to get the right answers out of him. Henry deserved that, at least.

But another issue caused her pause. Emma made a judgment call on Mulan and that situation turned out worse than anyone could have expected. Regina had her doubts, but she never deduced that the babysitter was in line with a known terrorist organization.

Regina knew better than to second-guess a mother’s intuition and she wouldn’t now, especially with the way Emma was looking at her. She must have been reading her thoughts for her eyes were compelling her not to push the issue.

“So he will be alright,” Regina stated, not as a question but as an absolute because it had to be alright, for him and Emma and Regina. For _them_. They knew she wasn’t referring to Henry’s safety in the hands of August, but the boy’s emotional state at his mother leaving.

Emma stared at the floor, nodding and reassuring herself, “He’ll be alright.” An image flashed before her eyes of a six-year-old child stuffing himself with pancakes and smiling around a mouthful with those puffy, syrupy lips. Emma smiled, chuckling breathily over the sob. “He’s the one who convinced me. In his words: I ‘gotta go.’” Her head ducked and she covered herself with a hand. It shielded Regina from the tears, but not from the tidal waves of melancholy wafting off of her. “It’s his new favorite phrase.”

Cowered in the palm of her hand, she snorted humorlessly. “Is there a support group around here for parents who miss their kids?” She was only half joking.

Regina glanced down to Emma’s hand and then clenched her own to keep from using it unnecessarily. “I don’t know about support groups, but we do have that counselor on hand. I am being sincere. Dr. Nolan is available for anything you feel uncomfortable talking about to anyone else. She is a good and fair listener.”

“Speaking from experience?” At the changing expression, Emma gave a reassuring smile. She didn’t want to see the benevolence in Regina’s face slip away. The captain’s concern for her, spoken or not, double or single meaning besides, meant more to Emma than she could possibly understand. “Which is totally fine, whether you see a shrink or not.”

“She is a friend,” Regina supplied.

“That’s good. Thanks by the way for looking out for me.”

Regina allowed it with an incline of her head. “It is my job.”

After what transpired, between Emma showing up at the captain’s door and Regina asserting that her first officer’s well-being mattered to her, Emma realized a crucial thing. It occurred to her that she had taken something very special for granted. The more time she spent with Regina the more she realized how much she belonged there. Despite their arguing, she and Regina were aware of the consequences of failure. They may scrabble and disagree frivolously, but it helped conceal unwanted emotion. Whatever couldn’t be said had to be covered up with scowls and abuses, smirks and quips. It was just their thing – familiar and oddly reassuring.

On her way out, Emma’s hand caught the hatch edge and swung around so just her head and her head were visible. “Oh, and Regina?”

She turned, gazing expectantly at the woman hanging around her door. It proved hard to look away. Emma’s eyes where sparkling and so, so green.

“It’s good to be back.”

Regina’s lips parted. She fought the frown begging to slip into place and instead tilted her head. She couldn’t tell herself if it was a nod or a half acknowledgement. A numb sensation had taken over her, so she couldn’t be sure what her face was doing, but it seemed to satisfy.

Emma smiled, laughing. She patted the hatch side with her hand and slipped away.

When the door sealed closed Regina swore she still heard the chime of laughter.

*** * ***

The cafeteria chatter quieted for a moment at the entrance of the crewmember. Utensils paused, beverage cups settled back to the table, and critical gossip expired. They even stopped chewing mid-bite. It lasted long enough for the crowd to smile or nod in the direction of their new visitor.

The crew’s returning first officer, Emma Swan, hesitated under the pressure of so many stares. She gave a nod in return and they all went back to their meals. Conversations resumed and the clatter of silverware and trays reverberated through the mess hall.

Breathing out, Emma rolled her shoulder and shook off the anxiety that came with being the second most important person on the ship. She took her place in line at the lunch counter. Thankfully, she escaped with no questions asked. Full tray and drink in her hands, Emma wound her way through the benches until someone familiar came in sight.

Emma wasn’t one for gossip, but she was curious as to what happened while she had been away. Mary Margaret stayed in contact, but not as frequently as Emma would have liked. They had been best friends since their freshman year at the academy and assigned to the same starship for their first commission. After graduation it was typical for many friends to be broken up by their assignments. Depending on their vessel’s purpose (expeditionary, scientific, diplomatic, defensive) they could be off-planet for years at a time. For Emma and Mary Margaret to live and work on the _Storybrooke,_ it couldn’t get any more convenient than that.

It had been two months since Emma received a transmission from her friend. She started to think Mary Margaret kept her distance due to betrayal. Keeping Henry’s existence from her may have seemed like a necessary white lie to Emma, but in the long run it proved inexplicable consequences for their friendship.

Doubts filled Emma’s head about returning to this job. Doubts and fears she couldn’t shake. She needed her best friend back, and in the flesh, not a hologram a thousand lightyears away. And… she missed Mary Margaret. It was a strange and foreign feeling to miss someone who wasn’t Henry, but she did. Who wouldn’t with those fuzzy orange sweaters?

Having not been able to catch Mary Margaret off-duty, Emma settled for other company.

“Emma! I’m so glad you’re here! Now you can tell Ruby how productive LiDAR can be on field missions.”

 _Settling_ for David Nolan’s company was definitely the understatement of the year.

“Ah, yeah,” she agreed vaguely. She placed her tray down and sat across from David and Ruby. “David and I used it to navigate through the temple on Nal Korobi.”

“Emma’s being modest,” he said, bubbling over with excitement. “It’s a simple thing. The LiDAR uses pulses like Old World radar to detect subtle topographic features like aquifers, recesses, pools, and shafts. The pulse is echoed via backscattering which maps karst content by identifying wavelength-dependent changes in the intensity of the returned signal. And that’s just the half of it. Now, let’s say –“

“Whatever,” Ruby interjected, rolling her eyes. “If it’s that useful we could have used it on Khione. A remote sensor would have picked up any sign of that freakin’ alien before I ever had to put one toe into that relay station.”

Emma waved a finger. “There was no monster at that compound, Ruby. I was with you, remember? Didn’t see a thing.”

“But you heard it! Don’t tell me you didn’t because you were screaming like a little girl and running just as fast as I was!”

“Emma screamed like a little girl?” David chuckled, fingering the handle of his mug until he lost hold of it. “Ow…” He rubbed his shin, wincing.

Ruby smirked and asked, “Something wrong with your leg, David?”

He took one look at Emma’s aloof expression as she slurped from her cup. “Naw,” he grunted.

“Next time you and I go on assignment to a subspace relay station on an inhospitable planet crawling with saberwolves and an invisible alien…” Emma cocked her head, “I’ll bring the LiDAR.”

“And bring that nuclear arsenal you promised because it’s been two years and my stomach still hasn’t recovered from that stunt you pulled with that hoversled.”

“I’ve never seen anyone puke so much in one day,” Emma said, shaking her head amusingly.

“Shut up.” Ruby covered her feverish forehead. Her face had turned as white as a dwarf star.

David used his fork to push the last of his scrambled eggs around his plate. He studied Emma closely as she ate. She was quiet, more so than usual, but that might have had something to do with the fact that they hadn’t seen one another in a while.

“So,” he said, foregoing his breakfast and staring Emma right between the eyes. “Let’s hear it. Did you have to endure another welcome committee from Captain Mills? I always wondered if it was optional for returning officers.”

Emma caught the charismatic grin splitting across his face, so she threw her crumpled napkin at it. “I’m still your boss,” she warned before revealing her own roguish expression. “And yeah, returning officers still have to stand at attention through that borefest. That doesn’t mean _I_ stood at attention.” Emma’s features scrunched as she gave it thought. “Or listened, for that matter.”

“Did you ever listen to the captain?” Ruby asked.

Emma thought for a moment. “Nope.”

David and Ruby both snorted at the quick response.

Ruby flipped her long hair behind her shoulder and pointed an incriminated finger at her boss. “Not much has changed in two years. Speaking of… how old is the kidster now?”

“Yeah, Henry should be about six, right? How’s the little guy doing?”

Emma bit into her muffin and shrugged a shoulder. “ _Kidster_ is six, but he thinks he’s going on 23. All he can talk about lately is flight school. He’s always wanted to fly starships, ever since I bought him one of those starship beds and the matching blankets. I can’t get him off the idea.” Emma smiled despite her hardship in rerouting her son’s path. With her head in the clouds, she whispered sentimentally like he could hear her, “He’s an insistent little pilot.”

David frowned. “He realizes he has to earn a college degree before applying, right? I mean, these days the academy board doesn’t bother glancing at candidates who haven’t had at least four years of post-secondary education. It’s a crock of tar if you ask me.”

“I know what you mean,” Emma said, nodding. “I’ve met at least a dozen guys and girls at the repair shops I’ve worked in over the years who could pilot through an asteroid field and live to tell the tale. And they don’t have a lecture worth’s of flight school that we’ve had.”

“Hey,” David’s face crumpled, “I could navigate through an asteroid field!”

“So could I.”

Ruby snickered and elbowed David. “Maybe with that remote sensor you could.”

“W-well,” he stuttered, “that’s a given. I mean, what’s a pilot without their instruments?”

Emma shook her head, laughing. “Boys and their toys. I’ll settle for instincts over instruments any day of the week.”

Tilting her head, Ruby asked seriously, “What does Henry think?”

“Hm, don’t tell anyone this, but…” Emma watched as her friends leaned closer, shirts barely grazing their food trays, so she hunched over her own tray and dropped her voice to stealth volume. “Henry’s been watching Regina’s simulations, every holovid that’s out there for consumption.”

“ _Every_ holo?” David echoed.

“From the captain’s academy days?!” Ruby asked, voice approaching dangerously high levels. “That’s a lot of holos.”

“Yeah, my kid would rather glue his eyes to sim rounds than play video games with his mom. He’s obsessed and I’ve started to feel a bit neglected.”

Ruby’s shoulder rose in an innocent shrug. “Actually, it’s kind of cute. Being obsessed with Captain Mills does seem to run in the Swan family.”

Emma shot her a withering glare.

“But seriously… this might be good for his character. He’s displaying the kind of ambition the academy appreciates in applicants.”

“But he has years before he can start thinking about applying. He’s six,” she reiterated sadly. “He should be spending time being a kid. I don’t want him growing up so fast.” Her head fell into her hands and she exhaled a long sigh. “I suppose it doesn’t matter either way. I won’t be around to see him grow up because I’m here on this ship and not on Earth with him.”

“You seriously didn’t think it would be easy, did you?” Ruby ignored the warning glance from David. She shook her head and pushed on. “You’re a mom who chose to leave her kid behind so he could live in a safer galaxy. Not many of us here can say the same. That’s blasted brave of you, Emma. But as much as you miss him and he misses you, stop acting like you’re getting sucked into a black hole. Seriously. This isn’t the end of the world. He’s been away from you before and he took it like a trooper. The fact that he’s six now and binge watching flight sims proves how much he’s matured since then. And, Emma, don’t forget that its 2260 not 2015! We can send holograms from a million lightyears away! None of us would have left Earth if we didn’t have the technology to stay in contact with our loved ones.”

“Wow,” Emma muttered. “Okay.”

“I’m just saying. You don’t have to be so melodramatic all the time. I miss my family, too.”

Emma looked away, feeling a stab of guilt. Regina was right: the universe didn’t revolve around her. Many crewmembers in the fleet sacrificed their normal lives to protect the ones they left behind. If Emma wanted to be the first officer her crew could look up to and trust, she had to take their sacrifices into account as well. She wasn’t as alone on _Storybrooke_ as she liked to think.

She went back to her lunch by stabbing a potato with the tines of her fork. She gave it a dousing in ketchup before popping it in her mouth. Chewing, she thought about how her being out of the game for a while might affect the missions ahead. She had been onboard for a total of 16 hours and not much about ship routine had changed. Crew procedure seemed the same. Rules and regulations, too, but Emma never paid much attention to that stuff anyway. Things proved quiet aboard the ship, even with the excitement of Emma’s return.

“Have things always been this quiet since I’ve been gone?”

David made a leisurely scan of the cafeteria before shrugging. “ _Storybrooke_ has been tasked with some less than daunting assignments. We’ve been doing a ton of patrols, some scouting in the Mid-rim Systems, not at all the kind of missions this ship was intended for.”

“Pretty uneventful,” Ruby chimed in.

Something about the way David and Ruby were holding themselves, rigid and morose, had Emma holding back a chuckle. “You guys sound disappointed.”

“ _We miss the field!”_ they cried out simultaneously in angst.

Emma blinked. “Which is weird because field work is neither of your guys’ expertise.”

“That’s just it,” Ruby said with a huff. “When you were here I got a chance to get off the ship for a while and explore. Granted, the planet we visited was a stone cold bitch – _literally_ – but it was still exciting.”

“Technically, you were only there because you disobeyed captain’s orders and stowed away on my shuttle.”

David cut in with a slice of his hand. “And I got to chart karst topography and hit a Korobian on the head with a pillar!”

“Science nerd,” Ruby griped, eyes soaring to the ceiling, “nobody cares about your karst crap!”

Emma’s face scrunched. She pushed her tray to the side so she had room to fold her arms on the table and stare the two officers down. “What are you guys saying? Was it really that boring while I was gone?”

David and Ruby replied, “Worse.”

“What about intelligence? Has anything been gathered on the Freedom Raider front?”

“That’s a different matter,” Ruby answered. “The _Storybrooke_ hasn’t stumbled on anything, but when you’re in the fleet you hear things. Since that Raider bombing on Earth, Headquarters has formed a specialized intelligence division just to combat the Raiders. Fleet spies are sent to scour the entire galaxy – Earth to Outer Reaches – for intel on terrorist management, technology, military activities, the works. There’ve been whispers that the Raiders aren’t as derelict an organization as we once thought.”

“Really?” Emma frowned doubtfully. “I gathered from holonews reports that there are just a few in hiding.”

Ruby sighed, disappointed. “Honestly. You trust a bunch of journalists over fleet intelligence? Or is it that you haven’t finished the assigned reading given by the captain, hm?”

“Haven’t found the time,” Emma replied bashfully before taking a sip of coffee.

“Oh, and when you get around to it will that be before or after you ditch us? Again.”

“Hey now,” David intervened with a hand waving between them. He leaned over the table, eyes shifting between a sulking Ruby and Emma. “We were all a bit shocked by your resignation.” His eyes stayed on Ruby a little longer as he lowered his voice. “It hit some of us harder than others.”

Emma nodded slowly, cutting the woman some slack. She was starting to think her decision had affected more than the child she used as an excuse for her leaving. It seemed to have made just as much of an effect on her co-workers and captain. Emma already had a hard time accepting Henry’s disappointment at her leaving Cosmofleet. She didn’t think she could handle more of it. She just wasn’t used to people missing her. It led to so much anger and resentment. High tensions and bubbling over emotions were the keys to polluting a work environment as well as any personal attachments and should be avoided at all costs. Emma had learned this the hard way.

“Anyway,” Ruby said, “as much as we all would like to lend a hand in spying on the Raiders, that’s not really at the forefront of our minds. We’re dealing with our own issues here on _Storybrooke_.”

Emma tilted her head. “What do you mean… issues?”

“When Commander Mills made the decision to detonate the Raider base, a lot of people were… Upset is too light a word. How about hopelessly enraged? That explosion could have cost the captain her job in Cosmofleet, that is, if anyone found out about it. It was only due to her sterling record that Command stopped asking questions about the large gap between missions. They trust her, blindly so.”

Sucking in a breath, Ruby glanced at their surroundings before ducking back into the conversation.

“The Xelphi Six incident angered quite a few members of the crew. If people were uncompromising with her decision to blow up that suspected Raider ship and attempted to mutiny because of it, there was another reason to question the captain’s conscience after she set a self-destruct sequence which led to a blast no sentient life could come back from.

“The _Storybrooke_ crew is pissed, and I get it, although they haven’t seen Regina when she makes these decisions. They don’t realize the pressure she deals with under the circumstances. Hundreds of lives depend on her good judgment. I’ve been with her on the bridge when she’s faced impossible choices. The crew doesn’t see that side of her. Through their misunderstanding of the captain they are filled with incredible rage, but I can’t imagine what the surviving members of her recklessness are feeling now. The Raiders must have a bounty on her head by now.”

“Oh,” Emma breathed out somberly, “that’s why…”

“That’s why what?” David asked.

“Regina’s looking like she’s on the edge of a vibroknife every time I see her. I mean, she’s always been kind of tense and guarded, but not like what I’ve seen of her lately. At first I thought it was…”

Ruby squinted at her friend’s sudden stillness. She looked a million lightyears away and completely unaware of her company. Ruby cast a questioning look to David who mirrored it and spoke up.

“You thought it was what?”

“Earth to Emma,” Ruby sang.

“Nothing,” murmured Emma, shaking herself like traces of a dream still clung to her skin. “After hearing what you told me, Ruby, about the crew’s reaction, it makes more sense. If my crew didn’t trust me I’d be distant, too.”

Ruby nodded, gesturing with motion of her fork. “Just when you thought she couldn’t get any more detached.”

Just then the heavy clomping of boots approached their table. The boots belonged to a stout man with a head that reflected the cafeteria lights and a dark beard-turned-scraggly after one too many thoughtful pinches by his fingers. He stood about a foot shorter than Emma and owned a great bulbous nose some thought a hazard in his line of work.

“Leroy!” David stood to offer their chief engineer a seat, but Leroy bypassed the welcome to nudge Emma over so there was room for him on her side.

He saluted her with his spoon. “Welcome back to the team, Lieutenant Commander.” 

“Thanks, Leroy. It’s nice to know you all remember me, at least.”

“You kiddin’? You saved my engine from a blistering nose dive into a star. Of course I remember you!”

Emma chuckled and slapped him on the shoulder as he dug into his meal. “Glad to help, but I can’t say I did much. Your upgrades to the drive have it saving itself practically on its own.”

He snorted. “Nice to know someone appreciates me.”

“The captain chew you out again on engine specifications?” asked David. His smirk was anything but forced.

Dropping his spoonful of grits before they reached his mouth, Leroy gave them a long-suffering glare. “Why does everyone seem to think I got no authority over my own engine?” He reassured Emma with a look. “Except you, sister.”

Emma knew the difference between a commander and a chief engineer, and in no way did they share domain over the ship’s engine. She cringed and drawled, “Technically –“

“My engine!” Leroy expelled with a poke of his silverware. “Now enough about that. It looked like I was intruding on some serious talk here. Spill the oil.”

Of course, the only one of them there who could translate Leroy’s ‘mechanic talk’ was Emma. David’s blank expression was shifting from a waiting Leroy to a smirking Emma, so Ruby took the reins.

 “We were just catching Emma up on the crew’s varying viewpoints. Specifically their views on the captain’s record when handling Raider business.”

“Oh, right.” Leroy bobbed his head nonchalantly as if this was usual conversation. “The Evil Queen’s _murder before proven guilty_ policy.”

Emma’s grip around her cup grew so tight her knuckles went white.

“Actually, Leroy,” David leaned over, his scrunched face revealing how uncomfortable he was with delivering an unsavory memo, “we are going with ‘supportive’ on this one.”

The engineer squinted and continued to chew. “Right.”

Knowing everyone’s difficulty in understanding their captain, Emma would still defend Regina. She’d even put her fists up and jab good old Leroy in the honker if it came to that. The captain weighed consequences more than her crew might be willing to admit. She thought of the people in her care and carried out the most reasonable solution, hence her detonating Xelphi Six. By crippling it beyond repair she ensured no possible survivors could hunt them down in their escape.

There was more heart in Regina Mills than they all knew. She may not broadcast her fondness to her senior officers or be willing to admit how much she relied on them, but it showed in her actions. When affection seemed unprofessional, coldness became the only option people like her settled for.

“You mentioned before… something about surviving members,” Emma said slowly, anticipating bad news before it came. “Are you implying that the Raider Initiative has been resurrected?”

“Like a phoenix from the ashes,” Ruby replied, none to dreamily. “That star base may have been a primary base of operations, but not every Raider in the galaxy was onboard at the time. Those that were lucky enough not to get burned by the captain’s bold move seem to have organized and increased their numbers. We don’t know how, but in the two years since the death of their leader they have slowly built up their ranks. It is unclear who they have chosen to replace Leopold; intel like that resides in the central ring of their organization where our spies don’t have access to.”

David nodded gravely. “As far as we know they haven’t resumed operations, but it’s only a matter of time.”

“Has anyone even tried to infiltrate the Raiders? We could learn a lot just by standing in their ranks with eyes and ears open.”

“Get off it, Emma.” Ruby shook her head. She was fixing a scolding frown. “This is dangerous just talking about it. We won’t have you jetting off and into the inner sanctum of the Raiders. We just got you back.”

“Yeah, sister. You’re on a brand spanking new speeder before you checked the micro-coil knots.”

David rolled his eyes to Leroy’s ‘mechanic speak.’

“Flipping the switch before running basic diagnostics?” Leroy tried.

David squinted, so the engineer shook his head at the lost cause.

“Well, I bet Regina will listen to what I have to say.”

“No way,” sputtered Ruby, waving both hands to ward of _that_ idea. “After what Waylor did to her ship the captain won’t let you out of her sight this time around.”

Emma laughed, lifting up her hands to the bustling mess hall. “Do you see the captain? I’m pretty sure I’m well out of her sight right now.”

“She won’t let you off the ship again is what I mean. I don’t think you realize how much you’re needed here, Emma. I swear to the gods, there was this one time Waylor got in the captain’s way and she went totally saberwolf on his ass. Her actual words were, ‘Even Miss Swan would know better than to schedule the transfer of an ill crew member before consulting me!’” Ruby went into a fit of giggles. “And Waylor was all ‘Who in the galaxy is ‘Miss Swan?’”

Eyes blown wide, Emma calmed the flutter in her chest by swallowing hard. She cleared her throat and asked wobbly, “Rrregina said that?” She quickly looked from Ruby to David to Leroy.

Ruby winked. “Seven hells yeah.”

David shrugged and replied, “Can’t verify. I wasn’t present.”

“David!” A hand whacked him upside the head. “I told you first thing when you returned the bridge. Don’t you remember?”

“Sure, but you have a tendency to exaggerate.”

Ruby’s face took on a red shade of offense.

Emma rolled her eyes at them and turned to Leroy for confirmation.

He gave a sharp cackle. “Don’t look at me, sister. I’m very much at home in my engine room. Don’t get any gossip ‘round those parts.”

“It’s not _gossip_ if I was there when she said it!”

“Better go see Doc Nolan for that blabbermouth disorder. Ever hear of the tale of the boy who cried saberwolf?”

Ruby made to slap Leroy, but David intervened with an arm around her waist. He coaxed her deadly sharp red polished nails back with a pat.

“Nolan,” Emma echoed as a means to change the subject, somewhat. “Any relation?”

“Kathryn’s my twin sister,” David replied with a smile. “We haven’t seen much of each other since she graduated and began her residency program. She joined the _Storybrooke_ not long after you left. It’s been nice to see her in person rather than by holo. You should stop by and introduce yourself.”

“Hm, twins huh?” Emma put on a skeptical frown. “Will I be able to tell you two apart if she starts ranting about some psychology thing that’s exciting for her but makes me want to doze off?”

“Oh, Kath’s not like that _at all_ ,” emphasized Ruby. “She may be super smart, but she knows the coordinates around some juicy talk.”

“Really?” David deadpanned. “You couldn’t say that when I was gone?”

“Why? Does her ability to communicate well with the general public bother you?”

Emma and Leroy joined in Ruby’s snickering while David fell a lightyear behind them in the conversation.

“I communicate well,” he grumbled into his mug of coffee.

“Yeah,” Ruby snorted, “with your weird specimens.”

Leroy shook his head at the scientist. “You have to get new friends, brother. Preferably those that aren’t mutated or radioactive.”

Laughing in with the others, Emma was hit with a strong sentimental longing. She missed these cafeteria huddles. They were always a nice break from their high stress environments. Being senior officers, each of them had to shoulder responsibility the general crewmembers didn’t. As highly ranked officers they had to uphold the captain decisions even if they didn’t sit well with their own consciences.

That kind of duty weighed heavily on their shoulders. It only seemed appropriate that they should all take time to gather together and unwind. Be it gossiping, tech talk, slapping each other, or just eating in silence, the cafeteria was their refuge from the stresses of the job.

These meetings were also practical. As first officer, it was Emma’s duty to check in with her senior officers from medical, communications, science, and engineering. She thought back to the numerous times she convened with her colleagues-turned-friends. They had always been located at one of the long tables nearest the exit of the mess hall, always reaching across to snag the glorified sweet roll, and always closing conferences with more smiles and claps on the back than the commander would probably deem acceptable.

The more Emma thought about it the less she expected Regina to want to join in. It was kind of tragic, in a way, that she wouldn’t judge a ‘cafeteria conference’ suitable to fleet regulation.

In any case, Emma gladly accepted her resumed routine and proved so by swiping David’s roll when he wasn’t looking.


	4. Chapter 4

In the weeks following, the _Storybrooke_ completed several routine patrols in the Mid-rim systems. While they weren’t the fast action thrill rides Emma had missed since being away, she couldn’t complain. Being in space again, walking the pristine corridors of the ship, and delivering orders to underlings had been sorely longed for. She never got this kind of responsibility working at Dusty’s Repair Shop and counted her lucky starts that people still treated her with the kind of respect the authority of first officer demanded.

She and Regina had fallen back into a solid alliance, the same one before Emma left. Before, they worked tirelessly at strengthening their work relationship. They were each aware of their weaknesses. What one of them lacked, the other made up for. They filled in for each other when one was sick or incapacitated from a rough assignment, accepted advice, deliberated rationally, and stood up for each other (more often when the other’s back was turned).

However, this time around they had a tendency to tip-toe around each other. Emma agreed too readily, fearing she might set off the unusually remote captain and revert back to their old, depreciatory ways. Regina loathed Emma’s docility and accused so on many occasions. What threw Emma off about these “accusations” was their hypocritical nature. They were as docile as her tip-toeing. Emma was having an awful hard time figuring out why. It was like Regina feared saying anything too harsh, which was absurd because in no universe did Regina Mills shy from speaking her mind.

For all intents and purposes, Emma was starting to worry. Her commander’s behavior resembled something so out of the ordinary it called for a medical opinion. Emma knew it to be a ballsy move. Going behind Regina’s back had gotten her burned before. She only hoped that safeguarding the captain’s health and, ultimately, her command proved a sufficient motivation. But she had other reasons to visit the chief medical doctor.

Mary Margaret must have been clairvoyant.  Every time Emma arrived at K deck, the heels of her boots scuffing the pristine, ammonia scrubbed floors of Medbay, there was no sight of the doctor. The nurses and technicians were less than helpful and seemed to be actively working against Emma – or so that’s what she thought. They either didn’t know where she was or stared with quizzical expressions.

What kind of chief medical doctor didn’t work in her own lab? Did Dr. Blanchard have a secret office no one knew about? Was she conducting super-secret experiments in the bowels of the ship? Or did she frequently go off-ship to see through contracts she accepted as her alternative identity as a bounty hunter?

Probably not.

Emma liked to think she knew her friend well. Honestly, Mary Margaret was about as mysterious as a shoe. It only seemed appropriate that after several visits to Medbay without anything to show for it that a few outrageous rationalizations were in order. Emma was too helpless not to grasp for straws. With the captain’s odd behavior in question, she had to pull out all the stops. That’s how she ended up on the psychiatrist’s couch.

“This being a social call, I insist that you relax and stop looking at me like I’m judging you,” said Doctor Nolan.

From her place on the absurdly soft sofa, Emma eyed up the wool covered feet, skinny black leggings, and white top. The counselor was wrapped in a long black cardigan speckled with star-like silver. She had an athletic built not unlike Emma’s own, but her features were softer, more prone to smiles and thanks. If Kathryn’s reputation was disclosed to Emma (which it wasn’t) she’d conclude that the psychiatrist exceeded her age by only a few years. Her face had a thin layer of makeup, modest but not too formal. Emma didn’t spot a ring on any of one of her long, elegant fingers. Although the absence peaked her interest, she concealed any outward sign of it.

From the woman she deemed pretty and possibly trustworthy, Emma glanced at the small desk tucked in the corner. No photos, not of family or friends. No knickknacks, decorations, not even a single award or certificate showing off her many accomplishments (no doubt). The walls were bathed in a kind of soft beige Emma had run her toes through on a Florida beach way back when. Various paintings hung around the room, none of which could be identified by Emma’s level of refinement.

When she finished her scrutiny her eyes fell back on the woman’s. She was surprised to find not impatience or even pride, but gratitude.

“Easier said than done,” Emma replied.

“Why do you say that?”

Emma paused. The last thing she came there to do was drudge up the past. She was no stranger to the bullshit of psychiatric therapy. Apparently her need to second guess a stranger’s motivations didn’t come from years of emotional and physical neglect but from her ‘classic case of oppositional defiance.’ Hence bullshit.

“I have my reasons.”

The woman nodded vaguely. She went to the sofa across from Emma and sat with both legs tucked under her. She took a tie from her wrist and gathered her long blonde hair up into a messy knot. From the few minutes Emma had known her, this Kathryn Nolan was anything but your average psychiatrist. Even the décor with its shades of blue, sea green, and white put Emma in a tranquil mood. She felt as free of oppression, stress, and burden, as if she were visiting a private beach with sofas.

“This _is_ a social call, right? I just assumed because you didn’t make an appointment.”

“Of course, yeah. I’m not here for… you know…”

Kathryn leaned against the sofa’s arm, crossing her arms over it elegantly as she cocked an eyebrow. “You won’t burst into flames if you say it.”

“Um… therapy?”

“See? I didn’t even need the fire extinguisher.” Kathryn waited a bit to see if her guest would grant her a reason for the visit. When she received none, she gently took the lead. “So why is it you’ve come, Emma? May call you ‘Emma’?”

“Sure. To be honest, I’m not here for myself. It’s the commander.” Emma clasped her sweaty hands and wrung them. She clarified unnecessarily, “Regina.”

Of course, Kathryn knew who the commander was and (unbeknownst to Emma) knew why Regina was the reason for such a visit. Emma didn’t play it as cool as she’d like to think. From her fidgeting it seemed as though her presence there broke confidentiality with her boss. What that confidentiality entailed Kathryn didn’t know, but Regina always did have a peculiar hold over her first officers.

“So… this might be easier because you’re a friend of Regina’s.” Emma stopped to think for a second before amending her statement. “Actually, that might make it more complicated, but whatever.” Upon seeing Kathryn’s frown she asked, “You are her friend, right? I mean, that’s what she said…”

“This is news to me.”

The blank look told Emma she shouldn’t have come without verifying her source. Leave it to Regina to –

“Oh, my,” Kathryn gasped, smiling. “You are gullible aren’t you? I was joking Emma. Relax, please. This is a safe place. Anything you say here be it professional or personal doesn’t have to leave this room.”

“That’s a relief.” Emma rubbed the back of her neck, exhaling a chuckle. “But just so we’re clear, Regina doesn’t know I’m here and I’d like to keep it that way. I don’t want to give her any more reasons to throw me out an airlock. I live in constant fear of that threat, despite her using it one too many times to consider it genuine.”

If anyone could make disagreement look soft it was Kathryn. Her eyes stayed strong and true into Emma’s as she said, “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“You must know she’s capable of this.” Emma laughed. “I though you said you two were friends.”

“We are, but that doesn’t mean I cater to her intimidations. Now,” she pushed off the couch and gestured to the beverage cart, “are you sure you don’t want anything? I can assume from the way this conversation is going that you might need a little something.”

Emma waved a hand to show her indifference. She spoke as Kathryn fixed them both a drink. “I must have tripped into a wormhole. It’s entirely possible considering my long, gangly legs have always made me awkward.”

Kathryn looked over her shoulder and chuckled. “And what has you stumbling into this wormhole to begin with?”

“You,” Emma replied cryptically, “and Regina.” She shrugged. “How in the galaxy did the two of you become friends?”

“Is that why you came here?” Kathryn handed Emma a tumbler two fingers full of whiskey and ice cubes clinking musically inside the glass. It seemed apropos to the nonconforming psychiatrist. “Are you screening all the people Regina has relations with?”

Emma’s drink got halfway to her lips before she blinked and stammered, “Ah.. relations?”

Kathryn smiled. “Platonic in our case.”

“Okay,” she sighed. She felt a heady sensation that couldn’t be blamed on an untouched glass of whisky. Emma frowned inwardly at the relief she was experiencing. She took a good, long sip on her drink, this time without sputtering on it. “To answer your question: no, I’m not screening or investigating you. It’s just curious… I know I’ve only just met you, but I’ve always been stellar at reading first impressions and you do not fall into Regina’s category of straight-laced, on guard, humorless friend. So what gives?”

“Can I just say something first?” Kathryn didn’t bother waiting for permission because she was breaking out into a wide smile and informing Emma of wisdom supreme. “Do any of us fit into our friends’ category? Don’t friendships just… happen? Like a chemical reaction not unlike the kind between lovers? We spend time with someone, share common interests, debate our differences, and if it works it works.” She leaned forward, still posed in a sitting position on her long, curled up legs. “We don’t create friendships because they fit the mold. We have friends for reasons unique to each individual because of how they make us feel. Is there logic to it? Is it a choice made by our head or our heart?”

Emma sucked her bottom lip, squinting. “Are those trick questions?”

“No trick questions, and this is not reverse psychology. Don’t look surprised that I’m one step ahead of you. I can read your thoughts, after all.”

Smirking, Emma gave a pointed look. “Liar.”

Kathryn barked with laughter. “You catch on quick.  I can see why she likes you.” Emma’s eyes did something quite exaggerated and Kathryn tempered the smile with the back of her hand. Oh, she should really censor herself otherwise Regina would start threatening her with airlocks. “And because of that I’m going to feed your curiosity. Regina and I may have completely opposite temperaments, but we understand each other. She respects my station as I do hers. We both are tasked with the safety of the crew and burdened by the consequences if we don’t. Sometimes we have to make difficult decisions they don’t understand.

“But that’s the professional side of our relationship,” Kathryn elaborated. “Personally, I like Regina because she’s not afraid to speak her mind. I can ask her opinion and I know I’ll get a straight answer whether I like it or not. She’s also a riot after a few drinks. I once caught her swearing a few times. And you may not know this about our dear commander, but she’s wicked talented at cards.”

Emma’s jaw practically hit the floor. “Regina gambles? I thought Cosmofleet jurisdiction made it illegal?”

“Not when the captain can drain your pockets dry. Just don’t bring alcohol into the mix because she will drink you under the table and take all your credits before you can say ‘break the bank.’ Trust me, I’ve run up quite the debt with her.”

“So you guys are friends because she kicks your ass in cards?”

“Well, when she kicks my ass at least she has me going down having a good time. That and I like to think it’s because I’m a globally recognized psychiatrist, but Regina would tell me to vaporize myself.”

Emma gaped, a grin tugging unsure at her lips. “She would?”

“On many occasions.”

“Wow.”

Emma gulped, trying to grasp the mountain of information. Regina a card player? She started getting excited thinking about what that would be like. She had some skills of her own and wondered how her bluffs and low hand stakes would compete against Regina’s level of play. And with alcohol thrown in the mix… Well, that would just make things more interesting.

“You said we choose friends based on how they make us feel.” Emma posed the question to Kathryn with a thoughtful gaze. “How does Regina make you feel?”

Kathryn brought her hand to her chin. She engaged a far away expression, a finger tapping to her lips. “Mm…” Her hum dragged off into a giggle. “Regina makes me feel invincible. After our conversations I have these strange thoughts like I can punch my fist through the bulkhead and come away unharmed, like I can hop a starfighter without any training and streak across the stars at 10 G’s.”

“They sound more like delusions to me.”

“Hope, that’s what I mean. Regina gives me hope at a time when the galaxy feels cold and inhumane. She pushes me to thoughts and feelings I wouldn’t normally catch on to. She makes me outspoken, unafraid, and hopeful. And hope is a gods damned good feeling, especially these days.”

Emma nodded. With the scourge of Raiders throughout their galaxy and the threat of attack hidden around every corner, everyone needed a little hope these days. But Regina? A foundation of hope? The neurons in her brain were firing off at lightspeed at how hard she was coming to terms. The longer she sat there on the sofa talking to Kathryn the more transformed her image of Regina became.

Bringing her hand to her chin again, Kathryn watched Emma sink into the clouds. For as rash as Regina described her, Emma showed to be a very thoughtful individual. There were moments during this visit that Kathryn found herself wondering what on Earth she was thinking. She could be deep and contemplative without a spoken word. Kathryn supposed that Emma had no idea how beautiful and expressive her face really was.

The officer’s brows pinched together and Kathryn couldn’t hold back her curiosity any longer. “How does Regina make you feel?”

Caught off guard by the question, Emma blinked rapidly and straightened against the sofa. The informal atmosphere that she and Kathryn had created thickened to a point of obscurity. She appeared to recede from the intimacy that the topic broached.

“I-I don’t know. Why do you care?” Emma asked sincerely.

“Because,” Kathryn stated, like it’s the only word that needed to be said. “Because as much as I care about Regina I also care about how she treats others, especially with those nearest to her. Whatever feelings she evokes affect her as much they do you.”

“Regina and I aren’t what you’d call close. I don’t know what you’d call us, but it’s not within a lightyear of the relationship you have with her. Everything you’ve told me here today is news to me. Gambling? Drinking? Cursing for gods’ sakes! I mean, I feel like I never knew her at all!” Emma threw up her hands. The tightening of her chest provoked a sudden urge to ramble. “And she’s been acting so distant lately – more so than usual. I know it has to do with my coming back, but I have no way of figuring out how.”

Emma sighed, head sunk into her hands. “I’m just so confused and frustrated. I don’t want things to go back to the way they were. I want to move on and be able to work with her without having to push her away or set her rage off at the slightest word. She’s just so… quiet. She doesn’t pick fights, hardly yells at me, and barely glares at me let alone looks me in the eye. It’s strange because that’s the kind of motivation I need to do my job.”  Her head rose to reveal a painful combination of panic and helplessness. “What happened when I was gone?”

“Waylor,” Kathryn answered easily and with a subtle curl of her lip. “He may have been at the top of his class but he had this obsessive need to please Regina. Like all graduates, he heard stories of the illustrious Commander Mills. Everyone wants to work for her and the few that are lucky enough to earn the position end up with more than they bargained for.

“They try moving heaven and Earth to make her proud, but they only manage to test her drive to commit assault. Waylor was no different. He thought by going behind her back he was proving himself independent and diligent. But you know as well as I do how Regina likes to be kept in the loop.”

Kathryn took a deep breath then. She contemplated the importance of what she was about to say, but in the end Emma needed to know. The agony carved into her face begged for it.

The doctor shook her head and continued. “But Waylor wasn’t the source of Regina’s anger. The true subject of her rage was you, Emma.”

“I don’t understand.”

Kathryn saw how Emma hung on her every word. She could almost feel that same weight in Emma plummeting inside her as well. The lines around Kathryn’s mouth were hard as she spoke. “Why do you think Waylor never measured up? He forced her to long after something that was out of her grasp. He was a constant reminder of your absence. You left her with little warning and half an explanation, and she blamed Waylor for it.”

“No, I left my _post_. I left the _Storybrooke_ , not her.”

“Your commander is the only person that matters. She is the most important thing in mind when considering your future aboard this ship. She’s changed since you’ve been gone _because_ you were gone. She doesn’t want to go back to the way things were because they are memories of a lost time. She doesn’t want to hold on to something that might slip through her fingers at a moment’s notice. Emma,” her voice softened as did the fierce protectiveness in her expression, “I don’t think you resigned because of your son, but whatever your reasons, the _Storybrooke_ has always opened its arms to you. It is probably more home to you than Earth. You’ve made friends here. You’ve had adventures and traveled to places you never would have dreamed of. None of this would have been possible without Regina. You ran away from this wonderful gift and she deserves an explanation.”

“It’s not that easy. I can’t just tell her. It’s more complicated than that.”

“Emma Swan, if you wanted easy you should never have enlisted in Cosmofleet. If you wanted uncomplicated you would have stayed on Earth.”

Emma snorted. “You may be right about that.” The jingle of ice cubes brought her attention to the glass between her hands. She twirled its contents, biting her lip. Conversations with Regina were never easy or uncomplicated. In fact, they usually ended with clenched fists and minds swirling to the brim with threats and desires. Just thinking about the conversation Kathryn insisted she have with Regina nearly caused Emma to break out into hives. Nerves put a tremble in her hands, causing her glass of whiskey to slosh unstably. She was starting to feel hot and out of breath like she had just come out of an adrenaline induced simulator.

“You don’t have to talk to her right this minute,” Kathryn said, chuckling. “Take a breath, Emma. She’s not going to jump out at you from behind the sofa. Her entrances are much less dramatic these days.”

“Thanks for the heads up.” Emma relieved herself with a gusty exhale. She returned the smile with one of her own and said, “Regina was right. You’re a good listener.”

A flush of gratitude had Kathryn glowing. “Of course she was right. She’s always had my back. It’s a nice, safe feeling, but I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that.”

“No,” sighed Emma, a faraway sensation warming her back like a handprint, “you don’t have to.”

* * *

The _Storybrooke_ entered realspace without the slightest jerk or hitch. Jumps to hyperspace came with obvious risks, but with Mr. Gold at the helm the crew very rarely saw reason to cross their fingers and pray to their gods. Every jump proceeded without issue. He took pride in his sharp, reptilian reflexes and always made note of it to his captain.

“We have arrived just outside Quarthos’ orbit.” Rumple didn’t bother turning to address her because she tended to breathe over his shoulder. The scales on the back of his neck stiffened as he felt her scrutinizing the coordinates. His fingers flew over the control board in front of him as he slowed the ship to a halt. “Another smooth trip courtesy of yours truly,” he threw in, smiling at his navigator.

Ensign French, never missing out on an opportunity to cater to his ego, smiled back.

“You are a model to your kind, Rumple, but I can do without the constant notes of vanity.”

“If only we could all be as modest you, Captain.”

Besides the curled fists, Regina gave no sign of her usual temper. She failed to see the point in menace when Rumple just threw back insults that when she thought about it were honest to gods truths.

“Commence all engine stop,” she ordered over his shoulder. She then turned to communications. “Lieutenant Lucas, notify the target of our arrival. Inform him that I will be shuttling down to the surface immediately and that he should expect us at the prearranged location at oh nine hundred hours.”

Ruby nodded and fingered her headset. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

“Lieutenant Nolan, I want you to assemble the shuttle team. Collect Valentino, Clarke, and Valdez and make sure they are equipped and prepped for the assignment.”

“Will I be accompanying you to the Dome Capital?”

“Unnecessary. While I am away I need you to complete your findings on the soil samples we took on Gigeron 6.”

David shifted uncomfortably. Since Emma came back he’d been antsy to get out into the field again. As much as he felt at home in his laboratory with his microscopes and specimens, he missed the action. “Can’t it wait?” he asked expectantly.

Regina looked back, startled by his behavior. David had always been a model senior officer, namely someone she didn’t have to worry about going rogue. She could count on him to sit in his lab for the whole commission if she asked it of him.

“The Caedus Institute does not wait for results,” she said, narrowing her eyes coolly. “There is a reason why a multi-global research organization shares its resources with Cosmofleet. They expect timeliness and we give it to them. Unless you care to explain why transformative research to all sentient life is secondary to getting your adrenaline kicks?”

He clicked his boot heels together. “No, ma’am.”

“ _Nolan_ ,” Regina snapped, nostrils flaring, “I _told_ you not to call me that.”

“Apologies, Captain. I forgot.”

She rolled her eyes and turned back to her chair, muttering, “You would think after four years it would sink in.”

Shame coloring his cheeks, David zeroed in on an obscure area of bulkhead. When he felt the breeze of her waving hand, he fell at ease and headed straight for the turbolift.

Regina sat, crossing on leg over the other, and propped her tablet on her thigh. She busied herself with permission briefs, emergency plans, escape routes, and maps. The work was supposed to distance her mind from defiant officers, but it provoked no such thing.

All she could think about was Emma. For the last three weeks she was obsessing over how she acted around her. After a verbal exchange or simply passing each other in the corridor, she’d think about how she could have behaved better. Regina paid constant attention to what she said, how she said it, where her eyes were looking when Emma spoke, and her own posture. It was a game: running around each other, sneaking glances, and saying one thing but meaning another. True meaning, true emotions proved difficult to conceal when they were too enormous to contain. The task required energy she didn’t have. It asked for cold blood she couldn’t feel beneath her skin anymore.

The challenge prompted her to shut down almost completely when Emma was present. She couldn’t look her in the eyes anymore because when she did, words stalled in her throat. Whenever she felt Emma’s intense gaze, her feet were swiftly moving her out of sight. Every movement and spoken word was calculated.

She faltered occasionally, she was sure of it. Obsession always had a way of pointing out the errors. Had she stared too long? Did she say her name again like she let it slip that day in the park? She repeatedly berated herself over the proper course of action in correcting her first officer or over the correct sensation she should feel when Emma strode near enough to elicit a breeze across her skin. The fumblings, the thoughts and feelings, quivers and eye contact kept her awake at night. Absurdity and denial were her constant companions in the darkness. The late hours alone in her bunk left too much to the imagination. It prompted her to dream of the should haves, could haves, and what ifs.

Regina being Regina, she required justification for her actions. Her time serving as captain taught her the value of exemplary conduct. This made her attentive to the consequences of whatever came out of her mouth on or off duty. As the highest ranked officer aboard a Cosmofleet vessel she would be held accountable for her actions, her orders, and her associations. Therefore, she had to find reason in this new person Emma had brought out of her.

The only reason she could supply to explain her behavior was fear of confrontation. She avoided it at all costs, even if Emma’s pliant attitude these days rankled her to no end. Then again, old, stubborn Emma would make avoidance much harder to attain. It was better for everyone if they stayed out of each other’s way and only made conversation when absolutely necessary. It’s not at all what Regna envisioned for herself and the _Storybrooke_ upon Emma’s return. She didn’t expect it to be so nerve wracking, but it was and she would deal with it like a professional.

The lift doors parted with a whoosh and out came heavy, dragging footfalls. Regina’s eyes fell closed as she moaned inwardly to her bad luck.

“Hey, Regina? Can we talk?”

Regina laid down her datapad, rose from her chair, and strode past. “I’m afraid not.”

Emma dried her forehead with the back of her hand before dropping it beside her and wagging it out as if to rid the tension. “Okay, well… It’s sort of important.”

“To what degree of significance should I ascribe to something that is ‘sort of’ important?”

“Aaah, I don’t know. Can you, like, give an example?”

“Is it more important than this ultra-sensitive assignment Headquarters sent directly to my command and no one else’s? An assignment I am presently preparing for as we speak?”

“Maybe not so much. Forget it.”

“I’m glad you’ve seen the light, Miss Swan.”

The oval transmission table remained dim until Regina punched longitude and latitude coordinates into the outer control panel. The translucent table lit up and from its surface rose a three dimensional image of a city square. 

“Where is this assignment taking place?”

“We’ve already arrived,” Regina said, gesturing behind her for emphasis. A blue world filled the viewport in its oceanic splendor. “Quarthos.”

“That’s in close proximity to the Reach.”

Regina’s eyes fixated on the holomap. “Your point?”

“Lately our assignments have us jetting around Mid-rim systems,” Emma explained, shrugging. “All of a sudden Command wants us to carry out some super-secret operation that’s a stone’s throw away from Raider territory. And you’re telling me there’s nothing out of the ordinary?”

“I said nothing of the sort.”

Emma furrowed a brow at the ‘business as usual’ Captain Mills. The woman punched in coordinates and scrutinized floor plans like this was any other mission. “You don’t have to,” she muttered.

“I will concede – this is a highly sensitive operation, but I expect it to go down as routine and by the numbers as possible. To make anything more of it would be impractical. The last thing I need is a crew who can’t…” Regina’s chin rose as she squinted into the distance, “… What do your people say? Cool their ion jets?”

“It’s your call.”

“Yes, it is.”

Emma gave an informal salute before heading to the lift. “Just give me a few minutes to suit up.”

“No,” Regina said, pursing her lips at the holomap and halting Emma midstride.

“What?”

“You will not be suiting up because you will not take part in the landing party. I have already chosen a team. They will accompany me to the surface and act as protection for the target.”

Emma frowned, jaw tightening. “Why the seven hells can’t _I_ do that?”

Regina completed a great sigh, propping one hand on the table and the other on her hip. Her eyes flicked up to Emma’s and held strong.

“Because I need you to stay here and man the bridge. We are picking up an informant who has in his possession a wealth of intelligence. They insisted that the rendezvous point be in a public quarter, so anything can happen. I do not want an incident, so I need eyes and ears open. That means my first officer has to watch my back.” She extended her chin towards the blue glowing floorplans. “When I’m down there I need you here to oversee what I cannot: check corners, shadowed areas, armed persons, anything suspicious. Patch into security feed from the streets and the Dome Capital where I am to meet the emissary.” Regina straightened further, head jutting forward a bit as her eyes widened to impatience. “Do I need to go on?”

Emma swallowed and gave a firm nod. “No, I got it.”

Regina didn’t reply. She didn’t nod either or give any sign of acknowledgement. Her first officer complied with an order and that’s all she needed from her. Any further exchange would be a waste of time.

A crackle emitted from the comm and alerted those on the bridge to a male voice. _“Captain, the shuttle team is prepped and awaiting your arrival.”_

“Acknowledged, Lieutenant Nolan.” Regina turned on her sturdy combat boots and smoothed down the crinkles in her field wear she changed into earlier. She slapped the lift call button and declared smoothly, “Miss Swan has the conn. Whatever she says goes. I want everyone here to stay in constant radio contact. Is that clear?”

A cascade of nods swept through the main bridge. Regina chanced a glance towards the transmission table. Emma was looking at her, posed to act. Her mouth was parted like she needed – _wanted_ – to say something, but then she noticed the others in their midst and diverted her study elsewhere.

It would seem the captain wasn’t the only one acting strange lately. The turbolift arrived with a ding and Regina recoiled from her thoughts. When the doors closed her in, she shut her eyes, inhaled deeply, and forced herself to focus on the mission ahead.

* * *

According to galactic classification, Quarthos ranked in as a Class F ocean world. Ninety percent of the aquamarine planet was covered in water while sharply crusted mountains scared the other ten.

There had been no history of humans inhabiting this place long-term, although they were not forbidden from trying. While the native Quarthen lived under the surface in their ocean cities, visiting humanoids preferred to stay near the mountain ranges where the ocean floor was shallow for stilted housing structures. Additional options for quarters included domed metropolises in flora and fauna rich reefs and floating hotel monstrosities.

Quarthos lied within Commonwealth jurisdiction, although its distance from capital Earth made it an often overlooked world. It had been a steadfast ally despite the current xenophobic climate. The habitually honest Quarthen had elected to protect Commonwealth spies and offer its planet as a base of operations. This started out as an act of good faith that promised to keep out humanoid industrialization that many planets found themselves and their cultures crippled by. As long as they provided intelligence agents their due hospitality, the Commonwealth would keep their economic ventures out of Quarthos.

For the Commonwealth, the deal was a great achievement. Quarthos was the only world within their purview that lied on the outskirts of their galaxy. Their proximity to the Outer Reach made it an ideal waylay for keeping tabs on the Freedom Raiders and pirates in hiding from interstellar law.

“Another day out on the ocean,” Valentino said as he observed the stretch of water through their viewport.

Taking on the appearance of your average military man, Valentino was buzz cut, barrel chested, and muscular from head to toe. He usually spent his time around the ship in a tight, form fitting sleeveless beater. On this mission, Regina ordered him to wear a jacket over the rippling muscle because “Those arms might scare the locals,” she drawled warningly.

Behind the shuttle pilot sat Valdez who peered around the flight seat. He squinted out the window with dark, beady eyes. “What do you mean another day? We’ve been traveling interstellar for weeks.”

“You think space is any different from ocean?” Valentino lifted his ham of a fist and stuck up a finger to each of his points as he listed, “No air, zero gravity, can’t sustain life… As I said, another day out on the ocean.”

Already shaking his head, Valdez argued, “Water may not sustain humanoid life, but it does sustain marine life. These depths are teeming with complex biologics. And…” his mouth opened hesitantly as he wagged his pen towards the ocean view, “a-and ocean may be similar to zero gravity but it is not the absolute environment we travel through in space. An ocean can only _simulate_ an absence of weight. There is still gravity on a planet covered in water.”

“Oh, really? What are you… Waterboy?”

“N-negative. I am an analyst.” Valdez combated the verbal spasm by bracing his arms so that his elbows bent and his fists touched his shoulders and he gave himself a jerk of a shake. The little gesture calmed his nerves but had his captain, sitting in the seat beside him, watching over him, disconcerted. “As I was saying, we can only simulate an absence of weight. A suited individual can be submerged in a water environment, but again this is not perfect zero-g. Water produces drag, which is not present in a vacuum. See: Neutral Buoyancy Simulator; Marshall Space Flight Center; Huntsville, Alabama; Earth date 1968 to –“

“That’s a stellar lecture, professor,” Valentino patronized with a roll of his eyes.

“Th-there’s more to life than guns and a-a-ammo.”

Valentino glanced in the rearview mirror above the viewport and gave Valdez’s reflection a smug grin. “Little tense there, Spooks?”

Valdez humphed. “It’s not normal for me to be called out without adequate prep time.” He patted his hand on his thigh in time with the firm statement, “My preparation demands at least _two_ _hours_ and one additional hour of gear inspection. Now if you want to m-make f-fun of my verbal miscalculations, fine. Just know that I do not like getting called out on such short notice. N-no offense captain,” he mumbled.

Regina simply grinned softly. Valdez may be shy and stumbling, but he spoke up when he felt his authority as a skilled analyst was being superseded by anyone other than his commanding officer. Regina always had a soft spot for him and made it her prerogative to crush anyone who bullied his skittish tendencies.

“I completed my gear inspection in 10 minutes,” Valentino commented with a sly smile to his co-pilot.

From behind, Valdez scoffed. “This is an anticipated amount of time for a combat junky.”

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, Spooks.”

“Not necessary. I have three advanced degrees, which is more than you can say.”

“Boy, don’t even start. I can school you in advanced blowing shit up than they can blow –“

“Okay flyboys,” Clarke cut in. “Keep ‘em in your pants. We all know they’re as short as a splintered Korobi stick.”

From behind the co-pilot’s chair, Regina enjoyed a little smirk. She liked Clarke and had high hopes for her advancement. Her rigid principles made her an ideal candidate for commander someday. The snark may be unnecessary at times, but Regina remained silent. She continued tapping on her handheld field tablet while her shuttle team chattered on.

“Why do you call him spooks?” asked Clarke.

Valdez rocked back and forth, oblivious to the conversation.

“’Cause he’s scared of the sound of his own voice. Poor guy can’t even use the excuse of being an android.”

“That’s a little unfair, don’t you think? He can’t help it.”

“Just callin’ it as I see it. Isn’t that our job? Observe and report. Don’t get emotionally involved with the _aliens_.”

Clarke socked a fist into his thick, meaty shoulder as he went on chuckling.

“Alright, enough chatter.” Regina pocketed her tablet. “We should be arriving at the Dome Capital soon. Stay sharp. And put a sock in it, Valentino.”

His chuckling died off as he stiffened his posture. “Right, Commander.”

Valentino guided their shuttle through the atmosphere with the help of Officer Clarke. She pointed him down towards a large round platform. The landing site was just one of several floating a few meters off the surface of water. They were all connected to the Dome Capital by spokes which acted as tunnel transportation to and from the capital city.

The Dome Capital, like others of its construction on Quarthos, was climate-controlled and featured the courtyards, skyscrapers, and hover transportation typical to oxygen rich planets. Although Quarthen prefer to live in water, it wasn’t unusual to find them in the humanoid-friendly environment.

The enormous compound hosted Commonwealth dignitaries from all corners of the galaxy and contained large court halls, conference rooms, offices, and laboratories. Essentially, it was the Quarthen version of Earth’s Presidio.

“Touchdown,” called Valentino just as the others felt the shuttle’s landing gear settle. He flipped a few switches to disengage all systems, and the engine’s hum gave out to silence. He raised his wrist chrono. “And MET-clock… set.” The device gave a shrill beep when depressed.

“Should be back before supper,” Clarke commented. She loosened her harness belts and checked the safety on her blaster before sliding it into her underarm holster.

Valentino followed her out, muttering, “Unless Spooks over there has another conniption about how he wasn’t adequately prepped.”

Before Valdez got far, Regina grasped his shoulder and squeezed gently. “It’ll be fine, dear. You’re more prepared than you think.”

He returned the reassuring smile before triple checking that his tablet was still in his pocket.

They disembarked the shuttle with bare minimum supplies. Each carried a concealed pistol, comlink, and a tablet comprising mission details and maps of the capital.

At the entrance to their platform’s tunnel awaited a monorail on a single track. Once they boarded it automatically commenced a smooth 25-mph trip to the Dome Capital.

Halfway there, Regina touched her earpiece. “Miss Swan, do you have a lock on our position?”

_“Yep, I’ve got the holomap up and I see three red blinking dots moving through the tunnel.”_

Regina glanced to her three officers who were also connected to _Storybrooke’s_ main bridge via earpieces. “Try not to think of us as red blinking dots, Miss Swan. If a crisis emerges I think my team would agree when I say we'd like to be considered more highly valued than a marker.”

_“Okay, no red blinking dots. Sorry. My bad.”_

There was a crackle of amusement on both sides of the radio link. Regina’s mouth twitched up only for a second.

When the monorail floated to a noiseless halt, they headed through a narrow passage that widened to the Dome Capital atrium. Above them hung a clear blue sky. It was far from a simulation. The transparisteel dome allowed those inside to take in Quarthos’ majestic heavens and touched nearly everything with natural light during the day.

None of them had visited Quarthos before. In other circumstances they might have liked to enjoy the sights, but this was an assignment Command directly tasked them with. They were briefed with maps, outlines, and itineraries, so most of the capital was not terribly foreign to them.

Regina led them through the atrium, which had the appearance of an airport terminal. Because they were undercover, her team did not flank her for maximum scrutiny of their surroundings. Instead, they proceeded in twos: Regina and Valentino in front, Clarke and Valdez in rear.

John “Johnny” Valentino acted as their tactician. He was your straight up combat grunt out of Jersey USA. Regina didn’t normally rely on brainless muscle, but Valentino possessed too much experience to be overlooked. He paid his dues as a surface military officer before Cosmofleet (as did many combat specialists enlisted in the fleet). He had as much muscle as he did strategic brains. The tattoo inscribed on his upper arm paid homage to his fellow Marines and encouraged him to sign off on every opponent with a gruff “Semper Fi motherfucker!” Regina allowed it out of respect for Earth military.

She had high expectations for her crewmembers and pushed them harder than any captain in the fleet would dare, but she demanded more from Valentino, mostly because he could take it and he couldn’t function without the severe Marine-like treatment. He and Clarke were close in age to their captain, so it seemed justified for Regina to keep things firm and professional between them. Valentino had a reputation with the ladies. Enough said.

Like Valentino, Miranda Clarke had previously served in Earth Military. She was a Navy lieutenant before signing up with Cosmofleet. Her time served at sea made her the most valuable member of the away team. In addition, her studies in extraterrestrial ocean environments made her an asset. She could read the ripples off a tide from a lightyear away and let her record show for it. That kind of modesty remained unparalleled to Rumple’s and was reason enough for the captain to take her under her wing and groom her for her own command.

She also acted as translator, being fluent in Quarthen and knowledgeable in basic aspects of the species’ foreign policy. Despite their not anticipating interactions with Quarthen (as their emissary was identified as human), her linguistic skills made her a supplemental advantage.

Luca Valdez handled intelligence. His mousy, bespectacled appearance and his need to work, eat, and sleep with a comlink attached to his ear made him an odd appendage to the team. He may be soft-spoken on the outside, but his specialized talents did not remain hidden. As an analyst he could scan records, reports, maps, transmissions, anything that fit on your average data stick and then some. He could filter out unnecessary data and extract the critical pieces of intel. Contrary to most analysts, Valdez thought fast on his feet and wasn’t phased by chaotic distraction. He had shown Regina on previous assignments that he wasn’t your usual super geek but a super geek you wanted in a tight jam.

Despite his stutters, he possessed some handsome features. His hair was jet black and his face was lean and expressive. Dark, sun-kissed skin tone remained as unblemished as his age. In his mid-twenties, he fell a full ten years under his teammates, but boasted more academic honors in tactical intelligence than the other three combined.

Regina would have preferred at least one Quarthen on her team to make them a little less inconspicuous, but with Cosmofleet’s disinterest in representing their fleet with non-humans there was little chance of that happening in the next decade.

The team passed several Quarthen on their way to the rendezvous point, but humans were the majority of those bustling about. The Quarthen were a tall species with flat, ridged feet and three digit hands all essential in combating fluid dynamic forces. Their thick, blubber-like skin possessed a dull gray tone. Out of water their skin dried and appeared leathery and wrinkled, but their biology afforded them the ability to retain large amounts of moisture to keep them adequately hydrated. For a human, their expressions were hard to read. There wasn’t much of a face amid the gills, tentacled jowls, and bulging round liquidous eyes.

“So,” Valentino cleared his throat beside the captain, “how do you think the Lieutenant Commander will fare on the bridge?”

Regina frowned, unsure why the topic was being broached by Valentino of all people. She detected an attitude in his tone and combated any impending remarks with a firm tone. “Miss Swan has taken the conn before. She has proved herself perfectly adequate. If you have doubts about her capabilities,” mouth rigid, she narrowed her eyes, daring him to disagree, “please bring them to light.”

“This mission is more sensitive in nature than usual…” Valentino dragged off, leaving the obvious unsaid.

“She will perform the duties expected of her.”

Regina didn’t know why, but it seemed as if she was trying to convince herself of the fact. Ultimately, she didn’t know if Emma could handle this type of mission, especially if something should befall her. In that case, Acting Captain Swan would be forced to make tough decisions for the good of the crew.

After a moment’s pause, Valentino drew a slow, thoughtful grin. “I wonder if Swan is seeing anyone. You think she’d be interested in a guy like me?” He looked over at the captain, flashing his legendary pearly whites.

Regina, jaw dropped and chin downturned in a scowling manner, choked, “I can think of quite a few reasons why that line of questioning has no place in the present moment.”

He shrugged, tilting his head. “I’ll just ask her at Friday’s game night.” He nudged his chin up, adding smugly, “She’s a slippery bluff at cards if ever I saw one.”

She quickened her pace, still shaking her head and scowling over the insolent behavior. She couldn’t fathom a universe wherein Emma involved herself with someone as dense as Johnny Valentino. An itching sensation ran down her spine and her whole body shuddered reflexively. She shook her head of the thought and continued at a step ahead of him.

They entered a courtyard abundant with sidewalks, benches, and trees. The trunk and branches of the trees were slim and ash white in color. Instead of the green leaves common to many seen on Earth trees in the warm season, these leaves took on a shade of red like ripe cranberries. They fluttered in the ventilation’s breeze. The green grass, intersected by walkways, smelled of fertilizer and dew. It would seem the Dome Capital had received a dose of reproduced rain showers the day before.

According to Command, Regina and her team were to meet the spy for extraction. Normally, he or she would hitch a ride on a commercial vessel as a civilian and proceed to Earth. Due to the sensitive nature of the agent’s information, a fleet starship was to pick them up instead. Regina would treat it as a simple snatch and exit, but she kept her wits about her. These were dangerous times, and considering the last dying advice Regina held in her possession she wished to remain alert and ready for anything.      

Upon sighting a uniquely twisted tree, Regina touched her ear. “Standby for target intercept.”

Emma confirmed with another,  _“Yep.”_

Clarke and Valdez broke off, one going left the other right. They circled the rendezvous point, eyes keenly scanning the area. Clarke’s head turned left and right. Her pale skin glowed stark with the dark hair she piled into a tight bun high on her head. “Looks clear, Commander.”

The much revered comlink attached to Valdez’s ear had an optical extension that fit over his eye. When activated, the square piece lit up blue and projected visual schematics directly to his eye.

“Affirmative,” said Valdez, checking corners with his optical attachment. “All clear.”

Regina took a seat at the bench nearest the tree. She waited alone, checking her chrono every two minutes. After fifteen minutes she was starting to get suspicious.

“You think this guy got friendly with the natives and decided to stay?” Valentino asked, pinching a tree’s leaf and flicking it.

“That or he forgot,” Clarke replied.

Valdez rolled his eyes. “An intelligence officer d-does not simply forget his d-duty.”

 _“Is there any way to communicate with this guy?”_ Emma asked over the radio. _“It would help if we actually knew how far away he was or if he’s even planning on showing up.”_

“Not in the slightest,” Regina answered, disappointment shadowing her tone. “I cannot even confirm if our target is male or female. Command sent a time and a place for pick up, and a code phrase to confirm identity. No name, no comm channel.” She took on a more casual demeanor by leaning back into the bench and threw an arm atop the back. “Everyone look a bit more inconspicuous. Valdez, take a stroll and shake it off, but stay within visual contact.”

Valdez sighed, thankful to move about. He got real antsy standing still, especially on assignment.

“Hold up.” Clarke touched her ear and focused in on movement. She saw a dark-skinned man of slim build and average height. He wore a gray coat and a fedora. “I have eyes on a possible. Three o’clock in a long coat and hat.”

The downturned visor of the fedora concealed the face of the man. It wasn’t until he sat beside Regina that his identity became known.

Regina’s mouth dropped, her eyes wide and unblinking.

 _“Regina?”_ squawked Emma from the other line, the demand grating in her ear more than anything. _”Regina! Is it the target? Talk to me!”_

Regina shook her head as if Emma could see the motion, but she couldn’t – just a red blinking dot, after all. It took effort to get her mouth moving but when she did the words scraped roughly in her throat. “If I wished to make an apple pie from scratch, what would I have to do?”

Unblinking, he replied, “You must first invent the universe.”  


“Sidney!” Regina screeched. Realizing the covert nature of this assignment, she blinked rapidly at her outburst and swallowed her astonishment.

“Regina,” Sidney said sweetly. He crossed his leg over his knee and laid his hands atop it. “Still looking lovely as always. How _do_ you manage to look so ravishing and still have time to command an entire starship?”

She didn’t have time to feel repulsed by the sickly hopeful look in his eyes. He wasn’t even being sarcastic, which should have sent her recoiling off Quarthos entirely.

“How are you even qualified to handle operations? I had you terminated from my command. No one in their right mind would put _you_ in a position of power.”

“ _Who_ in their right mind? Now, now, Regina. You don’t want to be caught with a traitorous tongue. After all, it was Command who put me in charge of their little operation here.”

“And I can terminate that contract just as fast.”

“Technically, I am not _currently_ employed by Cosmofleet.”

Something didn’t seem right. Regina noticed his knee bobbing and his eyes shifting to corners unseen. Sidney had been under her command for three solid years and she could tell when he was nervous.

“What do you mean you are not currently employed by the fleet?” 

Perspiration leaked from his forehead. He plucked off his fedora and dabbed his smooth scalp with the edge of his coat sleeve. He smiled half-heartedly. “There are more important things in the galaxy than credits.”

“Sidney…” her voice dropped to a whisper as she leaned in a bit, “what are you talking about?”

“The fleet isn’t the only power that will go to great lengths to sow its designs. It appears that there are others more endowed with the desire to get things done. Credits make a war, but passion wins them.”

A passion for vengeance, Regina thought. An ice cold threat raised the hairs at the back of her neck. “What did you do, Sidney? Have you put my team in danger again?”

“Ah,” he looked down morosely to the hat in his lap and the fingers fretfully smoothing the visor, “still blaming me for that gassing incident, I see. You should really let it go, Regina. I have. The victims were sick and I put them out of their misery. What difference would it have made if I consulted you on the matter?”

“They were not _victims_ ,” Regina snarled. The tranquil park atmosphere and the assignment at hand fell away from her existence. All she saw was red and the need to feel the weight of her vibroknife in hand. She felt tears springing to her eyes. They seared her vision with hot guilt. “They were my _crew_. I can never forget their deaths. Their families do not allow me the mercy of forgetting.”

There were voices in her ear. They were shouting, worrying, borderline terrified. Regina shut them out as she did the fluttering leaves and the heavenly blue sky.

“Now Reg –“

She grasped a fist full of his jacket and jerked him close so he’d feel her durasteel eyes bludgeon him. “If you’ve cost me another life or the lives of my crewmembers I will ruin you.” She roughed him again, baring her teeth. “And this time will be permanent.”

“Oh,” he gasped, staring softly into her eyes, “you are ever so lov –“

Sidney’s final declaration was interrupted by a thwack. The bolt of red energy speared through his sweat drenched scalp, through bone, fluid, and brain tissue. There was no exit wound, just a vaporized, blackened depression of what was once Sidney Glass.

Regina stumbled off the bench, grabbing her mouth to capture the scream. From her periphery she saw her teammates sprint in for her protection, but before their pistols left their holsters a stream of red laser sights crisscrossed the park.

It happened so fast. There wasn’t time to diagnose the problem, come up with a solution, or relay last orders to now Acting Captain Swan. Regina had never felt so paralyzed. Through her muffled hearing she heard the tell-tale sound of blaster fire and the subsequent screams of “Luca!” from Valentino and Clarke. More thwacks and dancing of red beams. The smell of smoke and burnt flesh filled her nostrils. The events elapsed in the amount of a few seconds, not even enough time to snipe at the annoying chant of her name over the radio.

Before Regina could register anything else, her vision went black with the striking pain at the back of her skull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MET is an acronym used by NASA that means “mission elapsed time.”
> 
> “If you wish to make apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe” is a quote by astrophysicist Carl Sagan.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: this chapter includes a mildly graphic torture scene.

“Regina! Regina! Ruby, patch into the security feed! _Now!_ ”

Standing hovered over her communications panel, Ruby ran a hand through her hair. It was already tousled behind control. “I’m going, I’m going!” she cried, her eyes wildly scanning the readouts on her screen.

“I asked you to send it to the transmission table minutes ago! What’s the delay?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, there’s been a solar storm of a development down there. We’re all a bit in shock.”

“Your commander isn’t in any condition to wait around for your shock to wear off. Do your fucking job, Ruby, and do it now or so help me...”

The holomap’s blue light illuminated Emma’s face which hardened into a dark and sullen gray tone. Her hands settled on her hips. She was numb to the nails digging into her skin. Her power felt so uncontainable she could strip the ship of its outer bulkheads by her fingers. She could peel the durasteel back, panel for panel and not feel a thing.

Ruby’s shrunk back, voice trembling. “O-okay, Emma.”

“Here,” David rushed to the nearly comatose woman’s side, “let me give you a hand.”

While Ruby and David worked out a way to gain access into the Dome Capital’s security mainframe, Emma gathered herself. She bent over the transmission table, pressing the back of her hand to her damp forehead. She and the rest of her senior officers had been listening to Regina and Sidney’s crypic little discussion the whole time. They were horror struck to hear the blaster shots and sizzling of flesh. When Emma cried out their names she got nothing in return. When she pleaded with Regina she received heavy panting and then nothing.

Static, that’s what Emma was hearing. It was the only sound pervading the main bridge and damning them all to the worst possible conclusion. Emma’s mind raced just as her heart nearly pounded out of her chest. She was placed in the worst possible position at the most inopportune time. Duty battled with emotion. She knew she needed to step up and take command – Regina ordered her to and her crew expected it of her. But all Emma wanted to do right then was curl up in a ball in a dark corner.

Emma licked her lips and inhaled slowly, feeling her head swim as she did so. Her hand went to her stomach and braced the quivering area for comfort. She’d never felt so nauseas in her life, not even in the zero-g sim or “vomit swing” as many cadets dubbed.

“I can’t seem to get access,” Ruby called from her station. “I’m being blocked somehow.”

Emma frowned. “How can that be? The Quarthen have a treaty with us. They have no reason to hide from their allies.”

Rumple pursed his lips and inclined his head thoughtfully. “Unless they are no longer are allies.”

“Shut it, Rumple. I don’t need your pessimism today.”

The uncustomary sternness from the acting captain shocked the officers. They looked at each other warily.

“Ruby, I want that feed. I don’t care if you have to hack into Quarthen security – just _do it!_ ”

“Alright! Alright!”

Belle turned her chair slowly, revealing a concerned face. “Sidney wouldn’t turn, would he? I mean, these are the Freedom Raiders he’s talking about right?”

Rumple glanced sideways and replied, “If he was a slime ball three years ago, he’s a slime ball today. People like him don’t change.”

“If it is the Freedom Raiders,” David said, “then it seems like we’re the last to know. I got a bad feeling about this.”

He didn’t finish his sentence before Ruby started jumping and clapping ecstatically. “I got it! I’m feeding the video to the holotable.

Everyone watched with bated breath as the visual enlarged to show a city square filled with ash white trees and red leaves scattered about the ground. Upon second glance they realized that the red on the grass and sidewalk wasn’t leaves but blood.

“Oh my gods,” gasped Belle as Rumple looped his arm about her shoulder.

A group of figures in gray and black camouflaged military garb filled the hologram. Their faces were covered in black helmets and masks. They were carrying off the bodies, one of which was the body of Captain Mills.

Emma slammed her open palm against the table and screamed an unintelligible string of curses. David drew a hand over his face while Ruby fell back into her chair, stunned.

The bridge went silent. Each and every one of them stared into space, memorizing the names Valdez, Clarke, and Valentino. They etched their laughs and smiles into their minds. They remembered the card games, the sparing sessions, the midnight drinking contests that made their hangovers the next day a state secret from their captain. If one of the three weren’t known well, they were mourned all the more. It weighed heavy on their minds and would continue to do so in the coming years – guilt that they didn’t take the chance to have one last conversation, one last taunt in the simulator, one last goodbye.

Ultimately, they singled out their captain in final commemoration. She was one tough bitch, a witch, a queen ruling her people with an iron fist. She stained her hands with the blood of both the guilty and the innocent. She pushed them to the breaking point, to a place no captain wanted to find themselves, especially if it was backed into a corner.

But despite her infamous ‘Evil Queen’ persona, she was their commander and as such she led them through thick and thin, sacrificing her own life for each of theirs every time they left space dock. There was something honorable in the way Regina protected them, even if her methods didn’t suit them. Everything she did, ever order, every snarl, every threat of airlocks, was in their best interests.

She gave them all a second chance and blanketed them in a durasteel place they called home. The _Storybrooke_ may have been the property of Cosmofleet and bestowed on her like any other commissioned vessel, but Regina peopled it with a very particular kind of crew in need of a very particular touch. She took on the _Storybrooke_ and made it their home.

“What should we do?” David murmured beside Emma and remaining as still as a vacuum. “What are we going to do… Commander?”

“No,” she choked out. No, Regina wasn’t gone. She couldn’t be. If she was dead, that would leave Emma to carry the weight of 400 lives on her shoulders. She glared at David. “No, your commander – my commander – is still down there. She’s alive and she’s waiting for my decision and I say we get her back.”

David held her glistening eyes and swallowed with difficulty. He nodded once.

“Um, Emma?”

“What?” Emma’s voice was too strained from shouting to maintain its recent intensity, so it came out a bit strangled. She turned her tired gaze on Ruby who was shifting uncomfortably at her station. Seriously, what more could go wrong? “Just spit it out, Ruby.”

“There’s a craft incoming. Based on the readings I’m getting off its plasma trail it’s just come from Quarthos’ orbit. Um, also… no visible signature. The ship’s not even transmitting a registration beam.”

Their faces paled as it dawned on them. Belle said what everyone was coming around to thinking. “Raiders.”

“Well,” sighed David, rubbing his chin, “looks like I was right about that bad feeling.”

“If they’re just leaving Quarthos now,” Rumple gathered slowly, “they might have the captain in their possession.” He felt the gaping stares bore into the back of his head. He rotated in his chair and shrugged. “Not that I’m suggesting a rescue.”

“Yeah, nobody would accuse _you_ of missing the captain,” retorted Ruby with rolling eyes.

“It was just an observation.”

“No,” Emma cut in, determination carved into her face, “it’s an opportunity. If they’ve taken Regina prisoner, we are going to intercept that ship, board them at blaster point, and rescue her – dead or alive.” Her head shook vigorously as her heart demanded, beat for beat, eternal faith in a woman who gave her more chances than she deserved and saved her more times than she asked to be. “I am not leaving her behind.”

“Ah, guys.”

Belle’s pointing finger drew them all to the viewport. The shadowed, severely dented starship began its approach.

“Oh, vaporize me,” mumbled Ruby, holding her head up with both hands. “It’s a trap! They’ve planned this from the start! It’s a freakin’ trap!”

Nearly tripping over her feet in the race to the captain’s chair, Emma’s hissed through her teeth, “Of course it’s a blasted trap!”

“I don’t think so,” Rumple concluded. “They’re turning hard to port and picking up speed. I think they mean to make a jump to hyperspace.”

Emma’s fingers flew over the control panel on the chair’s arm. “Belle, get a lock on its sublight drive. I want the _Storybrooke_ tethered to that thing. I don’t care if it drags us into a black hole. Wherever it goes we go. Got it?”

“Aye-aye!”

“Rumple, bring us around to cut off their trajectory.” Pressing buttons, Emma raised the alarm to red (bypassing the preparatory yellow and orange). Accordingly, red lights flared and spun on every deck and through ever corridor, room, and hanger.

“Everyone to your battle stations!” she called through the speaker and to every member aboard the _Storybrooke_. “Rumple, shields up and weapons at the ready.”

They were all posed still and alert. The sharp turn made by the Raider ship displayed to their unblinking eyes its carbon scored stern side and gray durasteel menace. It sent shivers through all of them as if the vacuum of space was reaching out to them with its long, cold fingers. Soon their forward bows were staring each other down and closing in fast.

Emma grasped both arms of her chair and leaned forward. At the last second, she made the call. “Rumple, engage the thrusters.”

“We’re not doing what I think we’re doing,” David said slowly, walking to stand beside Emma, “are we?”

“Yeah,” Emma sank back into the captain’s chair, “we’re going to ram it. Full speed, Rumple.”

“Just as reckless as the last captain,” grumbled Rumple, shaking his head as he worked the helm.

David mumbled, “Dead or alive, Captain Mills isn’t going to like this.”

“She will when it gets her rescued. If I know her at all she’d take a few bumps to the hull of her precious starship over a hostage situation any day.”

The nose of the Raider vessel loomed closer as the _Storybrooke_ picked up speed.

“Ah,” Ruby’s eyes shifted from the viewport to the captain’s chair, “it’s staying on course, Emma.”

“Looks that way.” Emma chewed at the inside of her mouth, weighing her options.

“Oh, my.” Ruby turned pale as an eggshell. Her acting captain actually looked crazy enough to pull this stunt off. Forget a 180 degree skiff roll over a crevice; Emma meant to smack two heavily armed starships like _whamo!_ She blindly grabbed for her chair. “I think I’m going to buckle up.”

“That’s not necessary.” Emma’s voice remained calm and even. It didn’t seem to bother her how cold she had turned. Her senior officers, though, would have been downright suspicious if it were not for the fright clinging to their nerves. “Rumple, on my mark I want you to tilt the Storybrooke 70 degrees hard-a-port. Just before you do that, though, aim a torpedo for the vessel’s stern section. That should cripple its hyperdrive, giving us ample opportunity to board.”

Bell turned, brow raised. “Has the ship ever made such a maneuver?”

“If it hasn’t already, it’s going to today. I think this is as good a time as any to show what this _Regal_ -class is really capable of.”

“How do you know the engines can take it?” Ruby asked. “With, oh I don’t know, _everyone’s_ life at stake this is hardly the time to break barriers, Emma.”

“This is not a democracy!” Emma shouted. “I gave a direct order. If you guys don’t like it you can take it up with the captain after I save her neurotic ass.”

The resolve in Emma’s voice and posture seemed to satisfy Ruby.

“Well, okay,” murmured David, turning towards the viewport with a small grin. Emma took her new command regretfully, but he had to admit that she’s dealing with it as only a protégé of Regina Mills could. He fleetingly wondered if Regina would be proud of the uncompromising woman she left in charge.

“Do you have a target lock on their hyperdrive?” Emma asked.

Rumple’s hand settled gently on the guidance system. “Nearly there…”

Suddenly, the Raider ship banked hard to port, tilting up just enough for its side hull to miss scraping the _Storybrooke_. It swept past them, engaging primary thrusters, and shot into hyperspace leaving the larger but less agile _Storybrooke_ in its wake.

Flushed with anger, Emma turned to Belle. “Did you manage to get a lock on their sublight drive?”

“Sorry, Emma. They must have a jamming –“

“ _Fuck!_ ” screamed Emma. After pounding her fist into the chair’s arm, she shot up and stormed off the bridge.

“Humans,” Rumple cursed indignantly. “Not you, dearie.” He proceeded to smile and pat the shoulder of his partner.

* * *

Her mouth was wet and tasted of warm copper. There’s a pounding inside her head that she couldn’t shake. The back of her skull hurt the most and she feared that the slimy trail down the back of her neck was blood.

She barely recognized the feeble moan escaping her mouth. She winced and tried to open her eyes and identify her surroundings. Try as she did, her lids were too heavy. They were probably swollen shut. Regina clamped down on a whimper. She hated being injured without any clue as to where she was. She felt so incapacitated, so vulnerable.

Taking a slow, deep breath so as not to aggravate the sting in her chest, Regina moved her arms. A shooting pain halted her progress. She could move her fingers but everything from wrists to shoulders felt numb. She’d guess her hands were tied behind her chair. Her feet remained immobile as well, secured to the legs of whatever hard surface she was sitting in. She didn’t dare struggle. Every inch of her body was wracked with soreness and she couldn’t know what shape she was in with her eyes out of commission.

Instead of sight, she turned to her other senses. The blood slick areas on the side of her face and neck cooled on her skin. She turned up her nose and smelled nothing but her own sweat and blood. She concentrated hard to detect a noise beyond the blood pumping erratically in her ears. Her own broken gasps were all she got in return. She must have been held inside an empty durasteel enforced room. It explained the presence of an echo.

Regina’s mouth twisted uncertainly. Cold air would most definitely suggest her location was somewhere on a starship. The perspiration hanging in the air prevented her from differentiating between recycled or fresh air. Thus, Regina hadn’t a clue whether she was indeed on a ship or not.

She inhaled deeply and let it out long and slow. This was not the time to panic. Instead she relied on her training. Though she’d never been held hostage by interstellar terrorists, Regina had one weapon in her arsenal that kept her hopeful: nerve. She had more experience dealing with Freedom Raiders than any admiral in the fleet. She knew their strengths and weaknesses. In her deadliest fight, she took down the organization’s leader. She had every reason to be feared, which might explain why she had been captured and secured to a chair.

With nowhere to go, memories flashed before her. Sidney’s betrayal… blaster fire… smoke and screams… Regina couldn’t remember anything else after the blow she received on Quarthos.

Oh gods, she thought. Clarke, Valdez, and Valentino. Were they injured? Or had they been left for dead on Quarthos? If these were the Raiders they were dealing with, Regina assumed the latter. The Raiders didn’t take political prisoners. They made an example of them in explosions and blaster fire.

Regina cursed herself. She had a duty to protect her team and she failed them. They expected her to see them through the assignment and return to _Storybrooke_ in time for supper. Regina was supposed to take care of them, but all she managed to do was lead them into danger and get them killed.

Hot tears mingled with sweat and blood. The sudden realization came in the form of an eloquent “fuck” that came out stripped of much weight.

It wasn’t supposed to end like this. She possessed too much experience as a commander to be mislead much less captured. She had been heralded as Cosmofleet’s best and brightest, a luminous star that all the young cadets modeled themselves after. They expected so much from this woman they put on a pedestal.

But now Regina was experiencing the inevitable plummet. Her fall from grace seemed apropos. Based on her current circumstances, the last remaining Raiders managed to band together and reap their vengeance. They surely would not forget the one responsible for the devastation on Xelphi Six and the countless Raider vessels torpedoed to space dust. There, in that bleak, hollow prison Regina would be held accountable for her actions.

So appropriate, so poetic. She would laugh it didn’t hurt so much. If her mother were alive she would click her tongue and shake her head. Her eyes would be filled with disappointment. “You did this to yourself,” she said. “You ignored my warning and look where it got you.”

“Mother…” she moaned feebly.

A hatch hissed open. The echo of heavy boots approached slow and menacing.

Regina’s head tilted up to whatever abuse should befall her.

* * *

“Shit,” Emma barked. “Shit, fuck, seven hells, stupid, blasted fucking …”

She threw the toe of her boot into the bulkhead. It met the wall with such force that a pang shot through her foot. Emma barely grimaced. She felt impervious to physical pain. The guilt eating away inside her chest was too great to sense anything else.

The sting rattled within her ribcage and burned with every breath she took. She had to numb it, all of it.

Emma approached the beverage cart. The crystal tumbler clanked against the others as she plucked it up and sloshed the amber colored liquid in. She slammed down the decanter and sat back into the sofa. The material was so soft that it formed to her body. She sank into it, permitting it to take her into its clutches.

“Blast,” she mumbled quietly this time and rubbed a hand over her face.

Gods, was she exhausted. She didn’t even try sleeping for fear that the sound of radio static would fill her ears. She’d rather feel defeated on a comfy sofa with a stiff drink in her hand than defeated lying down – even if it was on the captain’s bunk.

It didn’t overthrow her moral code to break into the commander’s personal quarters. Emma had plenty of experience in burglarizing. All it took was a reroute of wiring and she bypassed the hatch’s hidden security panel.

It’d piss Regina off and probably set off her fury like a star gone supernova, but maybe that’s what she wanted. She’d take Regina cross, intimidating, even homicidal, but not dead. Getting blown out of an airlock or (the more likely) terminated from her job was worth breaking and entering. As long as Regina was around to exact the punishment. As long as she was alive and curling her red lip and glaring at her with those smoldering brown eyes.

Emma took a liberal sip from her drink before pressing her hand to her forehead again. Her mind was racing with superfluous protocol. The fact that she was a lieutenant commander meant that she should know what came next. Key word being ‘should,’ but then Emma never paid much attention to protocol. Every time Regina pushed her to read one of a thousand manuals thrown in her face, Emma just took them to her quarters and dropped them in a forgotten corner. They were still there collecting dust.

Without a way of knowing whether Regina was still alive, Emma was being forced into a tricky position. She felt like half a captain. Honestly, she felt that taking on the mantle would be a betrayal of Regina’s trust. She’d expect Emma to find her, right? She’d taught her to use her instincts and never give up no matter what the cost. Ultimately, she showed Emma the value of responsibility.

“Never leave your own behind,” Regina had said once. Her mouth was downturned and rigid. Her eyes were wide and unblinking to the losses she sustained over the years as a commander. She never looked so committed. “If your crew falls into enemy hands, you go through seven hells and a black hole to get them home.”

Emma sighed, letting the arm holding up her head fall to her side. Captain’s Quarters wasn’t helping her think. The dimensions were too small and confining. How in seven hells did Regina get anything done in here?

She started to wonder how the crew would react. They still hadn’t been informed of their captain’s fate. Captured or assassinated, Regina was a subject they didn’t care about either way. Based on past events, Emma would guess most of them would take it with applause. They’d celebrate the demise of the dictator they failed to depose.

Emma’s jaw clenched at the prospect. She couldn’t bring herself down to thinking so negatively. If she was going to come up with a plan, she had to think optimistically. There were plenty of people out there who would mourn Regina. There had to be acquaintances, colleagues, dare Emma think friends who might lend a hand in a rescue effort. She did have friends, right? Emma couldn’t be the only one who was dogged enough to try.

And poor Henry… There was no conceivable way she could look him in the eyes and tell him what happened to Regina. If he felt crushed by her leaving him two years ago, what would his reaction be if he found out she wasn’t coming back this time? He would be devastated. He might very well blame Emma for letting it happen. He may be six, but he was smart enough to detect the guilt in his mother’s eyes. She’d divulge the whole thing with one look.

“Vaporize me,” she mumbled into her hands and meant every word of it.

If Emma failed in getting to Regina in time, she wouldn’t live with herself. It was all her fault. She should have gotten the security feed before the attack. She should have warned Regina about the bad feeling this Sidney guy was giving her. His voice triggered suspicion in Emma from the start. Whether he lavished the captain with “lovely” compliments or not, he was a textbook suspect in Emma estimation.

A knock on the door stalled Emma’s guilt trip. She set her glass down regretfully and pressed the hatch release.

Standing in the doorway were David, Ruby, and Belle. All looked haggard but content to be alive.

Emma blinked and jerked her head back. “Who the hell is manning the bridge?”

“Rumple,” Belle replied. “He elected to stay behind.”

“Yeah,” drawled Ruby, “he offered his two cents by having us relay to you that he was against any further suicide tactics.” She folded her arms and raised a brow. “He’s not my favorite lizard, but I have to agree with him on that.”

Emma shifted on her feet, weighing her options. She couldn’t keep up much more of this lone ranger strategy. She couldn’t take on the whole Raider force solo. And based on her senior officer’s showing up in exactly the place they thought she’d be, they looked ready to help.

“I guess… come on in and we’ll discuss it.”

David’s head rose a bit. He gestured to the interior quarters. “In there?”

“Yeah, why not? Hasn’t Regina held meetings here with her senior officers?”

“Well, not all of them at once.”

“Okay, then as acting captain I’m making a new rule.”

She waved them in with an air of indifference and plopped down on the sofa.

They inched into the room, looking about them like they'd never been inside Captain's Quarters before. 

"If these bulkheads could talk," murmured Belle.

Ruby shivered. "I don't think I want to know."

Snatching up the glass of cider she had started earlier, Emma instructed, “Help yourself to a drink. I’m sure Regina won’t mind under the circumstances.”

David and Ruby, both worn out from recent events, didn’t have to be told twice. Despite not being much of a drinker, Belle followed suit.

Ruby flipped back her hair and took a seat next to David, careful not to spill a drop of cider. “How come it feels like we’re raiding Mom’s secret liquor cabinet and wreaking havoc while she’s away?”

David nearly laughed and Belle brought a hand up to her snicker.

Emma didn’t find the humor in it. “This isn’t a party. Can we get down to business?”

“Wow,” Ruby’s eyes went wide, “you sounded like her right then.”

“Déjà vu,” agreed Belle.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” David observed softly.

Emma met his thoughtful gaze. He had always been a sensitive guy, but sometimes it could be a liability in battle. When she thought about it, he might not have been the most popular cadet at the academy, but he’d proven his worth in past missions with her. He always understood her better than she cared to admit. Although he was a few years older than her, he sheltered her like a brother. Emma never had a brother that protected her like he did and said things with his eyes that she felt in her heart.

She appreciated his empathy and passed it along with a subtle nod.

“So what’s our assignment, Emma?” asked Belle.

“Well, we’re on the outskirts of the Reach, so the odds of our bumping into another Raider ship are pretty good. I’ve been thinking about digging up those coordinates for Xelphi Six. Maybe they set up another space station. It might be our first clue in tracking down Regina’s captors.”

“Oh.” Belle’s face fell and turned hesitantly to David and Ruby as if to ask for help. When they diverted their gazes, Belle continued. “I was sort of referring to our next assignment.”

“What?” Emma stared at Belle and then Ruby and David. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Maybe it’s best we move on to the next assignment,” Belle whispered, the details of her suggestion hardly changed. Her eyes were downcast, long lashes fluttering. She didn’t know what else to say. She was just the navigator.

“I don’t believe it. You’re giving up?” Dumbstruck, Emma quickly posed the question to the other two. “You’re giving up on your captain?”

Ruby shook her head, wincing uncomfortably. “Um, you’re our captain, now.”

“She saved your asses and now you’re going to leave her behind like space dust? After everything she’s done for you?”

“It’s not like that, Emma.” David’s morose face pleaded with her. “We’re all grieving. I think what Ruby and Belle are trying to say is that going on assignment might be a good distraction for the crew.”

“Distraction?” Emma sneered. “You mean forget her, don’t you?”

“No, of course not.”

Ruby’s glass smacked down to the coffee table. She fixed Emma with a steadfast glare. “What exactly did you think was going to happen? Honestly, Regina wasn’t exactly your textbook commander.”

Scooting to the edge of the sofa, Emma growled, “Don’t you dare start talking about her in the past tense!”

“Textbook on the outside, sure, but remember when you first signed up? I told you about the lies. She broke regulation and had this crazy vendetta with the Raiders. Remember when she torpedoed that ship before getting confirmation on whether they really were terrorists? She has killed a lot of people without grounds and definitely without Command’s say-so.

“She has gone behind their back countless times. You were with her for a year. David, Belle, Rumple, and I have been her officers for longer than that. We’ve seen the kind of atrocities she’s capable of. So do you really think Command is going to sign off on this rescue mission? Do you think the crew is going to agree to you saving their ‘Evil Queen’?”

Before tensions boiled over further, David quickly stood and patted his hands to the air. “Before things get heated, let’s remember that this meeting is a discussion, not a contest. Why don’t we all hear what Emma has to say? She obviously has a plan.”

Emma’s scowl lingered a moment before drawing over to David and succumbing to appreciation. “Thank you, David. As I was saying, we’re very near Raider territory. The _Storybrooke_ is fast, but that’s not to our advantage at this point. Right now we need resources and anonymity. We can’t very well drop into enemy territory as the _Storybrooke_. Anybody with access to the holonet could identify it.”

“Are you suggesting we paint the ship a different color?” Ruby snarked.

David shook his head, the joke clearly lost on him. “It’d take more than that to conceal our features. We may be fitted with some uniquely advanced parts, but _Storybrooke_ is still Cosmofleet inside and out.”

Fearing their responses, Emma idly scratched her eyebrow and scrutinized the carpet. Boy, they were not going to like it. She hedged a moment longer before coming out with it. “I’m suggesting we solicit outside help.”

“Outside help,” Belle echoed, furrowing a brow at Emma’s awkward dodge.

Narrowing his eyes, David rubbed the scruff on his cheek. “You don’t mean…”

“Ye-ah.” Emma ducked her head in a swoop. Her eyes were anywhere but on a human.

Ruby sighed, rolling her eyes. “Rumple should be glad he sat out of this one. He would never approve of this plan.”

Belle nearly snorted, amusement flashing in her eyes. “Neither would Regina.”

“Well, Regina’s not here,” snapped Emma. “I hardly think she’d get picky on the method of her rescue.”

“This is…” Ruby strained to pin down the right word. “This is _bonkers_ – and I don’t say bonkers.”

“It’s not _that_ out of this galaxy.”

“No, you just think petitioning a blasted space pirate is a good idea. Are you spaced out? Do you know what a pirate would do to our beloved home?”

“I’m not saying we should let a pirate aboard, but we could damn well use their resources.”

“And put the crew in danger again? There’s a reason why dealings with pirates are illegal. They lie, cheat, and steal. They have no principles, no allegiances. They care more about loot and stealth technology than their own mothers for gods’ sakes. They’d stick it to the fleet just as fast as you can ask them for help. They’d shake your hand and then stab you in the back.”

Emma threw up her hands and let them fall to her thighs with a slap. “What in seven hells would you suggest, Ruby?!”

“Emma, we don’t even know if Regina is still alive. Her body could be lying in some dumpster on Quarthos and you want –“

“Ruby,” David interjected with a hand, “I don’t think –“

“No,” she shushed him sternly. “I’m sorry, Emma, but you need to hear this. Regina is gone and you can’t do anything about it. You tried your best. I’m mad, too. A lot of us are. She was… she was a decent captain. But you have to understand that Regina is just one of thousands who have become victims of this reign of terror.

“Sidney walked her into a trap and she paid the price for us. Don’t let her sacrifice be in vain, Emma. Blindly chasing the Raiders down with no back-up is not the way to avenge her death.”

Emma shook with uncontrollable emotion. She felt so much in that moment – anger, at herself for not protecting Regina, at Regina for not foreseeing Sidney’s betrayal, at Ruby for her insensitivity. She also felt hopeless, disenchanted, and inconsolably lost.

She swallowed. Pointing a shaky finger straight in the direction between Ruby’s eyes, Emma declared, “ _You_ are just a communications officer. You can advise me till you’re as blue as a glow stick, but at the end of the day I am your commanding officer. You will find that I am astronomically unwavering on this: I am not leaving my captain in the hands of the people she has a severe aversion to. Regina has committed atrocious acts against Freedom Raiders, it’s true, but that makes her more valuable alive than dead to them. They will torture her, interrogate her for critical fleet intel, and break her beyond imagination. They will kill her when they are finished and I will not be there to see that. I will not fail her again.”

Out of breath, Emma closed her eyes and inhaled sharply through her nose. Her heart beat rapidly out of her chest and she could feel it press against her ribcage each time. She was going to explode. Her head hurt, her mouth was dry, and she felt like she was going to vomit.

Suddenly, a soft pressure encircled her arm. She looked down to see Belle rubbing her forearm and looking at her with wet, considerate eyes. She wearily smiled up at Emma. Across from them David was nodding in full support and acknowledging his friend’s heartache with those eyes of his.

Ruby picked at her nails, bowing her head like a scolded puppy. She then scooped up her glass of cider and emptied it in just a few gulps.

A knock came from the outside hatch and Emma called for them to enter. Their guest slipped in and closed the door behind her.

“Mary Margaret,” Emma croaked. This was the first  they’d seen of each other since Emma last left. In that moment she blamed herself for using the ship as an excuse not to seek her friend out. While there were several decks and many quarters, Emma knew her way around the ship well enough and could have tracked her down easily (if she actually tried).

The doctor appeared unchanged except for the frown lines around her mouth and the gray tint to her skin. She looked almost… grave.

“I heard about the captain,” she said, ignoring her friend’s dumbstruck expression. “Is there a rescue plan in place?”

Emma stared for a moment longer before shaking her head. “We’re just about to…”

Ruby raised her sullen face to Mary Margaret and informed her, “Emma wants to acquire the skills and – what did she say? Oh, right – resources of a space pirate in chasing down the Raider ship that took the captain.”

Mary Margaret’s eyes blew to stellar proportions. Mouth open, she gaged Emma’s reaction, but from her guilty expression it would seem her dear friend was indeed spaced out. But then Mary Margaret squinted, studying Emma more carefully and found there to be more than guilt there. Underneath those baggy eyes, worry lines, and the emotional wall still going strong Emma was in a world of pain.

“O-oh, well that sounds nice.”

Ruby gaped. “Seriously?”

Mary Margaret shrugged, face frozen in awkward hesitance. “Pirates are nice.”

“Oh my gods. You all have been sniffing vapor.” Ruby shook her head, hopeless to steer these people in the direction of sanity. “Do you guys realize the kind of shit we’d be in if we go off the reservation? Our priority is seeing through our mission. Command needs to be informed of the turning of a Cosmofleet asset. There is definitely a traitor in their ranks, and I should think they’re more clever than Sidney; how else did the Raiders know Regina was meeting him? It is imperative that we warn the fleet. The Commonwealth might be looking at war with the Raiders.”

David sighed. “I hate to agree with Ruby, but I agree with her. War with the Freedom Raiders has been a long time coming.”

 “We all know how much you want to get the captain back,” Belle said to Emma. “But we have to think about the big picture. If we don’t relay this information to Command, they will be little prepared to stop an attack. Think about it, Emma. Capturing a Cosmofleet commander is a bold move, and they’ve shown in the past to be rather confident in hitting the fleet where it hurts. Not much is going to stop them from striking home, and when I say home I mean Earth.”

Emma sank to the couch. They were all agreeing with Belle in some form or another – nods, biting nails, rubbing the scruff of one’s chin. Emma really did trust them. They’d been through some tight situations before and escaped through collaboration and Regina’s stern leadership. But Regina wasn’t here this time.

Emma let her forehead fall into her hand, spent and pounding.

Torn, that’s how she felt. She knew the decision had to be made quickly. Time was running out for Regina and the Commonwealth. Earth may be a shit hole, but it held millions of innocent people – children, mothers, fathers, families who had no idea the question being posed to Emma. They were oblivious to the fact that their lives were in her hands. Regina, if she was still alive, probably did know. She had been captain for seven years and knew the burden of deciding who lived and who died.

The responsibility felt so overwhelming that Emma could regret ever returning to duty. All it had done was lead her to become someone she had never wanted to be. How could she be granted with the illustrious title of commander through failure? She was there in Captain’s Quarters making decisions because she let Regina get captured. The lives of an entire crew and perhaps the Commonwealth were hanging in the balance.

There was something wrong about them all being there without Regina. Emma didn’t feel a part of a team or a crew for that matter. And the _Storybrooke_ felt a lot less like home. She had to change that. No other task taken up by Emma compelled her quite this strongly.

Finally lifting her head from her hands, Emma settled it. “Alright, this is what we’re going to do. The _Storybrooke_ is making a jump back to Earth. Ruby is right. We need to warn Command and make preparations. Capturing a fleet commander isn’t going to be their last act in retaliation. The Raiders will come for more prisoners.”

Ruby nodded. “Sounds good.”

“Tough decision,” Belle granted with a wince. “But I think you’re making the right choice for everyone, Emma.”

Mary Margaret’s mouth was still open from “pirates.”

David’s eyes narrowed at Emma. He turned her plan over in his mind and something seemed strange about it. Something didn’t add up. “You don’t intend to come with us, do you?”

“I can’t.” Her voice cracked and she turned her head away. Shame slithered into Emma’s heart at the idea of leaving her crew. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. “I’m going to stay behind and look for her.”

That seemed to snap the doctor out of her stupor. “Emma, you can’t go alone! It’s dangerous out there and – and… _pirates_ ,” she emphasized with a grave expression and clamped a hand over her mouth.

“I thought you said they were nice?” Ruby drawled with a wag of her head.

“I’m sure some of them are, but how can you tell, Emma? Hm? What if you get hurt – which really isn’t that implausible – and there are no medical supplies? What if you bump your head and forget the past ten years? Oh, my! What if you get marooned on an inhospitable planet? What if the natives are cannibals, Emma? Have you even thought of that?!”

“Mary Margaret…” Emma reigned in the urge to stand up right then and there and hug her friend. She may not be the most affectionate person, but she missed the doc, not to mention her heart was melting over Mary Margaret’s nuclear intense concern. “Just calm down, okay? I’m not that accident prone to develop amnesia and maroon myself on an inhospitable planet.” Emma leaned forward on the couch and gave her a soft, reassuring albeit amusing grin. “And I’m not going to get eaten by natives.”

Flushed by distress, Mary Margaret exhaled with a rushing wheeze and nodded frantically. If Emma didn’t know any better she’d say the doctor was trying to convince her own nerves.

“So,” David licked his lips anxiously, “you’re going to catch a ride with – by any stroke of luck – a _trustworthy_ a pirate, pool your resources in tracking down an untraceable starship in the midst of possibly thousands, and rescue a woman who may not even be in their custody?”

Emma shrugged, nodding, and gave a halfhearted “ha.”

Groans came simultaneously from David and Mary Margaret.

Belle reached over to squeeze her shoulder. “May the gods be with you.”

After taking a few calming breaths Ruby turned to Emma and demanded, “Have you even met a pirate?”

Emma thrust back her shoulders. “Yeah.”

“Oh.” Ruby blinked. She wasn’t expecting that. In fact, the confidence in Emma’s posture seemed to put her more at ease. Maybe she knew what she was doing after all. “Okay, well who is this scoundrel?”

* * *

“Killian Jones is the name. How might I be of service?”

Arms crossed, Emma just shook her head, unimpressed. Tilting her head to David she advised, “Don’t be fooled. This guy is anything but charming. He’s nothing more than a slick adventurer with a crooked smile.”

David grinned. “Sounds like someone I know.”

While she hesitated, thoroughly skeptical, he stepped around her to introduce himself.

“David Nolan,” he said, all smiles. “I-I mean, _Lieutenant_ David Nolan.”

“Ah, a lieutenant? I’m impressed, Swan. I didn’t think you were one for fraternizing with stiff collars and manners.”

Emma smirked, panning between the sudden nerve wracked David to the calm as a cloned cucumber Killian. “It’s worse. Chief science officer.”

Looking down at his unshaken, outstretched hand, David frowned. “Um, I oversee the science department.”

Killian guffawed. “Is that what a chief science officer does? Well, you learn something every day.”

“Don’t be a plague, Jones. He’s a real asset to my crew. You actually might learn something from him, though I doubt your atom-sized brain could retain anything.”

“Now, now.” Killian held his hands up as if she was holding him at blaster point. “There’s no need to be hostile.”

“As chief science officer I observe and explain strange and impossible circumstances.” Lifting his chin, David put his hands on his hips. “I oversee special projects that have saved whole species and wildlife. The science department may deal with sensor readings, surveys, and mounds of data, but even deprived of equipment I can define the exact compound that is eating away at your stabilizer fins.”

Squinting, Killian dipped his head as if to say “Go on. Impress me.”

“I noticed on our way up the boarding ramp that your fins were peppered with starburst shaped scorch marks. These marks are commonly associated with an intense space weather effect called a coronal mass ejection. These ejections emit enormous bubbles of ionized atomic matter containing high kinetic energy – or what you might call plasma. A ship passing through a coronal mass ejection will, no doubt, receive scars in the form of blackened _starburst_ patterns. The damage is slight now, but can turn detrimental after one too many trips around a star. A standard CME primer should do the trick.” David crossed his arms and cocked his head smugly. “Observe a solar flare lately, Captain Jones?”

Killian’s expression remained blank. His eyes shifted between the officer’s eyes, scrutinizing without a blatant onceover. Nothing in his gait gave away the impression that he just got totally bested.

Emma, though, did give herself away. She chuckled behind a hand, amused that Killian Jones, most wanted pirate in space, just got owned by a super geek.

“It appears I have some learning to do,” drawled Killian. A smile came slowly as he offered a hand. David took it and they shook heartily. “I like a man who knows his stuff. Careful, though.” He held a finger up. “If you exceed my expectations I just might have to keep you around.”

“Kidnapping,” Emma translated with a cackle and slapped David shoulder with the back of her hand. “Wouldn’t be beneath him.”

“Didn’t think I’d be getting an education this time around,” Killian commented. “I was expecting something with a little more daring.”

“What,” Emma raised brow, “you mean more blasters, coercion, and death defying escapes? Phff, I’m back to being a respectable officer of the fleet. Anyway, Professor Nolan over here is not the reason why I asked to see you.”

“Of course not. You just couldn’t stay away from my handsome looks.”

“Please.” Emma snorted, cracking herself up at the sheer vanity of this pirate. She pushed past him and walked the narrow passage to the ship’s conference room. “Let’s get this little summit started, shall we?”

Hailed as the most wanted starship in the hands of the most wanted pirate, Killian’s vessel was a thing of dented beauty. From an external perspective, the elongated cockpit looked like an upside down teardrop with fused long stabilizer wings. When flying across space the fins separated into an ‘x’ shape and allowed for maximum velocity.

This particular craft was one of two prototypes decommissioned by Cosmofleet, the reason being its excessively “showy” appearance. The _Valiance_ remained on display in the academy’s atrium while the public was removed from the details surrounding its stolen brother. Killian seemed to know something as whenever he was in the neighborhood he drew most of the fleet’s attention (and not of the friendly kind).

Renamed _Jolly Roger_ , the ship went through an overhaul. It became outfitted with advanced (see: illegal) trimmings and tech, and its exterior was stripped of Cosmofleet colors with the exception of gold. When asked why, Killian explained, “Gold pairs great with a rich sepia.”

Like its brother, _Valiance_ , Killian’s starship looked much bigger on the inside than it did on the outside. It contained four rooms: cockpit, captain’s quarters, conference room, and Medbay. The dimensions were cramped and supplied with bare essentials. The hallways were narrow and about as wide for one person and ceilings low enough to graze one’s fingertips.

Until recent years, Emma wasn’t one to trust a pirate. They were everything Ruby said they were: unprincipled scoundrels who will stab you in the back for a contract. Personality wise, Killian Jones ticked off all the qualities including smug, revoltingly charming, independent, and ideologically stunted. He lived a life of shoot first, intimidate later.

On the other hand, he wasn’t a frivolous spender like most pirates. The money he earned on a contract typically went to ship repairs and improvements. He didn’t vacation on tropical planets, had no interest in paying for entertainment, and owned few possessions. His home was the _Jolly Rodger_. He was a pirate who slept in his cockpit, rarely staying in one place for too long and _never_ developing attachments that lasted more than an hour.

Killian Jones made up for his cock sure attitude with unparalleled tracking skills. It was the basis for them having met years ago. He proved to be the best of the best in navigating uncharted space. If he had grown up in a nicer neighborhood he may have had a shot at becoming a captain in Cosmofleet. Killian (and Emma for that matter) knew better. In fact, everyone in the galaxy knew piracy paid better; working for the fleet was simply more reputable. Thus resulting in piracy’s notorious character.

A pirate all his life, Killian looked down on Cosmofleet types for this oversight. He liked to think of pirates belonging to a gentleman’s club (which included the occasional gentlewoman). Not all of his kind were murderers and thieves. Most were untrustworthy backstabbers without a conscience, but others did have honor. Cosmofleet and Killian didn’t see eye to eye on this. As a result, he begrudged them for stereotyping “a gent just trying to make his way in the galaxy.”

Based on the time Emma had spent with him, Killian gave the impression of a smuggler with _some_ morals. Emphasis on _some_.

Emma walked the short trip to the conference room and sat at one of the chairs. She leaned back into it with a sigh and propped her boots on the table. Ankles crossed and fingers threaded together on her lap, Emma studied the area.

To call it a “conference room” was a joke. It hardly fit a table and two chairs much less a table, chairs, and _people_. They really had to squeeze in to get comfortable. The arms of David’s chair smashed into Emma’s as he clambered into it. Killian remained standing in the entryway, not wishing to knock knees with the other two.

“Well,” Killian crossed his arms and leaned against the hatchway’s frame, observing the way Emma made herself at home, “you do like to throw your weight around, don’t you?”

“Only aboard honorably acquired craft furnished with the best leg room.”

“You wound me, Swan. I thought _you_ were the honest one now.”

“Only when I’ve had my coffee,” retorted Emma. “And as you can tell, I have not indulged in that pleasure yet.”

David raised his brow. “Actually, she does throw her weight a lot on _our_ ship.”

“Indeed?”

“Shut it, David. Anyway, let’s get back to why we’re really here. “

“Only if the lieutenant promises to elaborate on that comment at a later date.”

David hesitated. Normally, he’d be afraid of getting slapped upside the head for teasing his commanding officer, but with Killian as intermediary David felt relatively safe. “Absolutely. No problem. Ouch,” he grunted, rubbing the back of his head.

“Ignore him. Let’s get down to business, shall we?” Emma settled back, flexing her hand. “I’ve lost something and I’ve sought you out because you’re the best at finding things.”

“Nothing like praising a pirate’s assets to get his attention. What’s this treasure you’re all hot to track down?”

Emma paused, not sure whether to correct him. Regina’s unreceptive nature hardly made her a diamond in the rough. Upon first meeting her, Emma might have been willing to leave the captain to her fate, but now? Something inexplicable compelled Emma to close this distance between her and Regina. Emma may be lost, confused, and overwhelmed, but she wasn’t quick to blame all of that on her new promotion.

“Well, it’s not a _thing_ per say.”

“Oh, Swan. Did you go and get yourself attached to another pathetic life form?”

“First of all, Ariel and I got back together _once_ ,” Emma affirmed with a slice of her hand. She then wobbled her head. “As a means of closure. Secondly, how do you know the target is a person?”

“Your reaction when I baited you. It’s not rocket science. No offense, Lieutenant.”

David shook his head vaguely in reply. Too drawn in by their rapport and what was coming to light across Emma’s face, he didn’t know who to pay attention to. Killian seemed to be on a roll, pegging her motives left and right. He also had this sharpness about himself. He was a quick wit even if he displayed it like a salesman peddling a FerrariHover. He maintained perfect windblown black hair, a two day scruff, and was dressed in black from boots to collar. Last but not least, his piercing dark eyes drew in your very soul.

David shook himself of the pirate’s allure and studied his commanding officer. Emma looked to be in a panic at having some long kept secret out in the open. He couldn’t remember seeing her this desperate. She rubbed her palms on her jeans and ran a hand through her hair like she was being interrogated for murder.

So sure he had Emma’s number, Killian continued. “You’re an upstanding lieutenant commander backed by an armada of intelligence specialists. You wouldn’t stoop to my neighborhood unless you’re covering your ass or someone really important is at stake.”

“Maybe a bit of both,” Emma mumbled.

“Sorry.” Grinning, he cupped a hand behind his ear. “What was that?”

“This is not a joke, Jones.” She bent forward to lay her hands firmly on the table. Her back and shoulders stiffened as she glared with purpose. “I need your help. My away team was ambushed on assignment. Three of them were killed and the other is assumed captured. I’ve abandoned my crew and my mission and I have broken probably a dozen regulations because of it. I’ve risked a lot to come here, Killian. Please, can you at least _pretend_ to sympathize?”

Contemplating, Killian sucked in a breath and blew it out with an audible gust. “Is the target a lad or a lass?”

Emma grit her teeth. “Why should that matter?”

He waved his hand. “You came to me. Don’t want to fill me in on the details?” Killian made his threat known by turning his back.

“Wait!”

Emma shot up out of her chair, hand outstretched. She wanted to be angry with the pirate’s conceited smirk and his display of entitlement. He had every right to behave in such a way, of course. This was his ship and he was the captain. Gods, did she want to grab him by the scruff of the collar and shake him good. But her hand shook in midair and her eyes were wide and horror struck. If she couldn’t persuade him to her side, there was no hope of rescuing Regina.

“Wait, alright?” Emma implored to Killian through her eyes. Whatever was in them in that moment caused him to pause. “Regina,” she said in one breath, shutting her eyes and turning away like saying it out loud hurt more than it should. “Captain Regina Mills. You’ve probably heard of her.”

“Indeed, I have. You _work_ for that braud?”

“You son of a –“

David practically threw himself on the table before Emma could snatch Killian by the neck. She growled and struggled wildly in his arms as he restrained her. He did so as gently as if he were handling an endangered adult size protozoa. So wholeheartedly did he sympathize with Emma that he glared vibroknives at Killian.

“That was a very stupid thing to do, pirate. And insensitive.”

Killian remained unimpressed by the aggressive reaction. He watched Emma with a careful and most curious eye. “I’ve been called insensitive, but never stupid.”

“Do you even care to apologize?”

“Don’t bother, David.” Emma flicked her hand at the officer’s tending and glared at Killian. “It’s a waste of time. All of it.”

David frowned as she thrust back her chair and rounded the table to exit. “This is our only shot at finding the captain. You know it is. You can’t just give up.” He licked his lips before raising his voice and stressing, “She wouldn’t want you to!”

Emma halted as if meeting a transparisteel wall. Slowly, her eyes met David’s. “Why did it have to happen?”

“I don’t know.”

He shook his head, forcing himself not to remove his gaze. It was so painful to see her this way. The dark circles under her eyes were so evident on her pale face. The green of her eyes lost their vibrant shade and instead carried a dull complexion. The whites of her eyes were struck through with red veins, evidencing her sleep deprivation. There was nothing fair about what Emma was going through – what she was putting _herself_ through.

“But it happened, Emma, and you made a decision. We’re too involved now to let it go.”

Killian shot his eyes to the ceiling and asked in a bored tone, “Anyone want to tell me whose feathers we’re rustling to save this captain?”

“The Freedom Raiders,” replied Emma.

“The Raiders?” Killian choked, eyes wide.

Seeing her chance, she rested her hands on her hips and took on a ‘can-do’ attitude. “Come on, Jones. It’d be a challenge. Think about the reward for bringing home the most famous commander in Cosmofleet history. You’d be a hero!”

“You know wealth and title aren’t incentives of mine, Swan.” Rubbing his cheek, he thought on it. “Why should I, a pirate, want to save a darling of Cosmofleet? Personally, I have no vibroax to grind with the Raiders. They certainly know how to knock the Commonwealth down a peg or two, but I’m not ready to go jumping into cahoots with them. I’m a free agent, a wandering soul just looking for good loot and a charming warm body.” His gaze lingered on David who scrunched his face.

“The galaxy is changing. Whatever happens to Earth will affect the rest of Commonwealth’s worlds. It’s not all about politics, Killian.” Emma raised her hand and listed them off each finger. “Trading, credit flow, goods, buyers… What do you think will happen when the Raiders strike the Presidio? The whole planet will be unprotected if they wipe out the fleet. Where do you think all those rich bastards are going to hide their assets? I don’t think they’re going to make any unnecessary jumps to hyperspace. They’ll lock it all up from Raiders and curious ‘gents’ like yourself.”

“So you’re saying one commander’s life is tied to everything in the universe?”

Maybe not the universe, Emma thought. Just to someone stupid enough to attempt the impossible. “Don’t try to act like an idealist, Jones. It just makes you look like a toddler groping at astrophysics.”

David snorted.

“How much of a finder’s fee are we talking about here?” Killian asked point blank.

“A stellar amount. The fleet will compensate you for rescuing the life of one of the fleet’s most irreplaceable captain. And before you question the Commonwealth’s loyalty, remember that I’m a woman of my word. You do the job you’re hired for and you’ll get more loot than what you smuggle in a standard year. Can’t promise a warm body,” she said with an eye that mean ‘off limits.’

“And what should happen if I get slayed in this quest to save the princess?”

Emma shrugged. “You’ll be dead. What do you care?”

Killian wagged his finger at her and told David, “I almost forgot why I like this one. Sarcasm and a spark of recklessness. What do you think Davy? Should I be worried about an employer with questionable motives? She seems all too ready to go down in a blaze of glory.”

“Well –“

“Not glory,” Emma interrupted David. “Conviction.”

Killian sighed. “Seems like an awfully unnecessary sacrifice for a mere superior.”

“So do it for a friend. I’m asking for a favor here.”

He tapped a finger to his chin and glanced up expectantly. “You’ll owe me.”

“I’ll owe you,” Emma agreed with a sigh.

Killian stretched out his hand and they shook on it. “You’ve earned my services, Swan.”

She smiled widely. “Glad to hear it.”

Before letting go, he gripped it long enough to warn, “Let’s just not kill ourselves in the process, aye?”

* * *

When they freed her from the chair and secured her to a bed she hardly thought she was being put to sleep. Even if the solution coursing from the syringe meant to knock her out it was doing a blasted poor job of it.

When the stretcher was locked in place, Regina found herself upright and staring from under her bludgeoned eyelids at her captors. They had no names. The only things in their possession were accusations and pain, the most unbearable pain an individual could take.

The true nature of the concoction didn’t reveal itself until her agony started doubling. They injected her with a drug that lowered her pain threshold. Before, Regina would have said the worst possible death was drowning. Now she was most certainly mistaken. Electrocution with its spine wracking charges sizzling through her body was the most pain one could feel before giving up. The potent chemical did its work alright. Regina gave up countless times upon the very first jolt.

Between the shocks and the blood curdling screams they heckled her. The most outrageous remarks were slewed in her face. She couldn’t even defend herself. They knew she was too weak to respond, but then that was a part of the fun.

The accusations came from all around her; she couldn’t tell from whom even with the delirious turns of her head. She was accused of putting her faith in a corrupt bureaucracy. They cursed her blind obedience. According to them Regina was just one pawn in a line of hundreds designed to tighten the bonds.

What bonds? Regina wondered. In her disorientation she couldn’t strategize, couldn’t think straight. They cleared her confusion directly, but to her it was the same old Raider bullshit philosophy: the chain of command had been compromised; the Commonwealth threatened to topple and in its wreckage a ruthless supremacy would emerge. The bonds restricting the diverse, the rational, and the moral would tighten.

The Raiders were a twisted bunch. She would be desperate to hold fast to this assertion were it not for recent evidence to suggest the contrary. They must have done their research because the indictments found their mark. A seed of doubt had already been planted thanks to her mother and these Raiders simply nurtured it to fruition.

If torture by electrocution didn’t break her, chipping away at her dignity surely would. The men who inflicted such pain questioned her crew’s loyalty. They threatened the foundation of her captaincy and her responsibility to the Commonwealth. The insinuations injured her just as much as the shocks did.

But like the captain she was, she stayed true to her government and revealed no intelligence or military secrets. Unnecessary of course because they never even asked her. It seemed the only reason for her capture was to squeeze every last scream from her throat and delight in her struggle.

The shocks continued. No matter how she responded they wouldn’t let up. Soon, she ceased to feel anything and her mind drifted.

In her waning consciousness Regina contemplated her crew’s allegiance and whether it was strong enough to drive them into the lion’s den to save her. The Freedom Raiders posed a formidable force; they had proven this by coming back from their leader’s death and in ruthless spirit. She still reeled from the events on Xelphi Six. No longer did she feel the need to wipe them out, at least not without leaving a scar on her conscience.

Her choices haunted her, doubting her capabilities. As a result, Regina became an unreliable captain, one who was frequently compromised emotionally. Every crewmember aboard the _Storybrooke_ remembered the devastation that day she ordered an unidentified ship to be laid to waste, but they continued to faithfully serve her. Emma stood up for Regina, convincing them that she had her reasons. Their first officer trusted in the captain and that was enough to quell their rebellious voices. Because of Emma, Regina found a slice of redemption.

The shocks came one after the other. Regina clenched her teeth through it all. Her captors had ceased their accusations and their taunts. The drug worked its way through her bloodstream, opening the floodgates for more sensations. The pain intensified and threw her into convulsions.

The only thought that kept the worst of it at bay was Henry and how much she missed him. Through her wracking sobs she found he was the only thing in the galaxy that could possibly ground her. His smile and the unruly bangs her fingers struggled to reach out and sweep aside were the last images she saw before her consciousness faded.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy borrowing of quotations ahead. If you're not a Star Wars fan then I apologize. If you are, you're welcome.:)

David ambled the corridors of the _Jolly Roger_ in thought. The ship didn’t allow ample room for pacing, so he had to settle for a winding trip from the conference room to Medbay and back.

He hesitated to visit Emma in the quarters Killian reserved to her. She was probably stewing in silence and wracking herself over how she could have done things differently during the Quarthos assignment. David understood she needed this time alone. Seven hells, he had no interest in joining anyway. He felt guilty enough for not foreseeing the attack. If he were to keep her company, their combined forces might be capable of melting the ship down with their simmering.

Recalling his last moments on _Storybrooke_ , it wasn’t surprising that he had accompanied his commanding officer. At the end of their meeting in Captain’s Quarters, the senior officers stayed behind. When Emma left to make contact with her pirate friend, they all were left staring at one another.

Belle had turned to everyone in the silence and asked what was on everyone’s mind. “Why do I get the feeling our new captain has been emotionally compromised?”

Compromised or not, David tagged along, mostly to support Emma. She may put on the appearance of someone who didn’t need help and who wouldn’t dare ask if she did, but she was in way over her head. Anyone with half a brain could see it. David was just thankful that he didn’t have to fight to join her. Perhaps Emma understood how risky this undertaking was after all.

He also involved himself in the rescue operation for a more selfish reason. In the case that they got Regina out in one piece he’d rather have Emma beside him than not. If Regina found out he neglected to keep Emma out of trouble, she had rights to throttle him. Better to die trying to obey the captain’s unspoken wishes than otherwise.

David didn’t even want to start thinking about the obstacles he and Emma would have to hurdle in order to succeed. So much worked against them – time and space including.

The rescue mission was a shot in the dark, but relying on the services of a space pirate? David had calculated the odds of failure. They were poor enough to give him nausea.

Unwilling to fret further on their predicament, David found himself in the cockpit. In the company of Killian Jones, he faltered.

How does one approach a pirate without startling them? Any wrong move and David might find himself one smoking hole more of a chief science officer. Was there a procedure for introducing oneself? Did he have to ask permission to enter the cockpit?

“Enjoying the view or are your boots just welded to the floor?”

David’s head snapped up. Grinning at him with that disarming grin was Killian. He was lounged in his pilot’s chair, harness belts hanging in disuse, and looking every bit the king of his castle.

David shifted, hearing the suction of his boot heels unsticking from the floor. Mouth hanging open, he managed, “Um, view?”

The grin transformed to a bark of a laugh. Killian’s eyes grazed over the gray rumpled flight suit with something akin to envy. Wordlessly, he swung his chair back to the controls, the seat clicking in place. He gestured towards the transparisteel window and the streaking white stars beyond. “The view, mate! Enjoying the view?”

“Right. Yeah. Enjoying the view.”

“Well, take a seat. Best one in the house.”

David squeezed between the chairs and scrutinized the worn, faded black flight seat before doing as told. Sighing, he took in the long control panel before them and ended up with more questions than compliments. There were levers and switches and buttons he had never seen. He could hardly guess what their purpose was in sailing this craft whether through realspace or hyperspace.

Killian, chuckling to the officer’s squinting features, asked, “Not your typical Cosmofleet cockpit, aye?”

Not wishing to insult the pirate’s pride and joy, David forced a smile and, “No, not really.”

“You’d recognize her fifteen years ago back when she was in the hands of the fleet. They didn’t know what to do with her or how to handle her, so they decommissioned the model. Poor girl was just collecting dust in some forgotten corner of a hanger.”

David tilted his head. “You don’t mean to say this ship is…”

“Only one of two prototypes every made. Well, about thirty percent of her. Since then I’ve souped her up pretty good. Enhanced speed, stealth, armor, weapons capacity, you name it this lass has got it.”

“I’m in a stolen Cosmofleet ship?!” shrieked David, worrying if he’d get court marshalled for this.

“Don’t get your harness in a twist. I didn’t steal her, I _liberated_ her. There’s a difference. One can’t _steal_ a neglected ship.”

“I’m sure another one of your mottos is ‘One can’t steal loose change.’”

Killian shrugged. “It’s not my fault if a dealer trusts me.”

David rolled his eyes.

The soft drone of the ion engine permeated the cockpit. It could be heard in the air and felt through the very chair he sat in. His head sank back to the headrest and he closed his eyes.

Before, David didn’t pay much attention to astroengineering and Leory’s techno babble, but now he was steadily appreciating it. The sound and feel of the engine had such a calming effect that it could lull him to sleep. It was no wonder why Killian spent most of his time there.

But to a scientist like David, he could not shut his eyes to the star streaked tunnel laid out before him. Though the mechanics of FTL hardly perturbed him, it didn’t cease to spark his fascination.

“So…” David cleared his throat and gestured to the imposing assembly of buttons and readouts. “What is it here that allows us to track the Raiders?” 

Killian didn’t appear annoyed by the question. In fact, the small smile tugging at his lips showed he was quite pleased to sate a curious mind. “The _Jolly Roger_ is equipped with state of the art stealth technology. Like most Cosmofleet vessels this craft can detect cloaked signatures. Unlike Cosmofleet, I can travel through space unobserved. Makes you wonder who has it better.”

“There are laws against possessing cloaking devices much less _using_ them.”

“Aye, and no one else is allowed the fun and freedom of traveling at their discretion. I bet those flag ships carrying your precious admirals are outfitted with cloaking muscle. In my opinion, it should be earned, not imparted to the first upstanding brat weighed down with a uniform full of medals.”

“And you earned it?”

Killian cocked his head and gave him a pointed look. “I didn’t steal this particular tech, for once.”

“Because it couldn’t be stolen or…?”

“Oh, please. I could have stolen the equations plus a thousand fleet secrets that’d make your head spin.” He shrugged, mouth twisting nonchalantly. “Didn’t see the challenge, though.”

David scoffed. “So what, you simply solved the theory of stealth?” 

“I am endowed with many things, Davy, not the least of which is my ability to shock and awe.”

Shaking his head, David muttered, exasperated, “Typical.”

“I’ve made some calibrations which allow us to lock on to cloaked signatures, to answer your previous question.”

“Even in hyperspace?”

Killian nodded.

“How can it tell a cloaked signature of a smuggler ship apart from one of a Raider ship?”

“With Jolly Roger’s unique tech, I’m able to scan for vapor trails. The exhaust fumes emitted by a vessel’s engines vary from ship to ship. Cosmofleet, for example, has fuel stations set all about the galaxy for commission ships. I won’t bore you with the mixture details, but the fuel is unique to Cosmofleet. You with me?”

David nodded, strangely captivated by the dialogue.

“Brilliant,” Killian settled, smiling. He stretched out his arms, pulling up his sleeves in the process, and used his hands to gesture. “Now, just as Cosmofleet has their own brand of fuel, so do the Raiders. Just as unique is the plasma trail an engine gives off after burning the fuel. Most if not all Raider vessels leave behind a unique blend of chemicals from their emission’s drag. Because they are so far from inner worlds they must rely on alternative fuel sources. These sources are uncommon to your typical Commonwealth aligned vessels.”

David caught on with widened eyes. “Which narrows down the parameters for pinpointing the particular emissions drag.”

“Aye. The Raider stomping grounds may lie outside all normal society, but they have their means of getting what they want. If a planet has a resource they need, they will trade or propose a price the Commonwealth is too stanch to dream of.”

“Hold on. They _pay_?” David jerked his head back, flabbergasted. “I imagined everything they acquire is through intimidation.”

“It seems that way, doesn’t it? But you forget your secondary school history lessons. The Freedom Raiders have been around for longer than you and I have been alive. They were not always kidnapping people and blowing up buildings. We tend to forget that over thirty years ago the Raiders were dealing more commonly in diplomacy than the Commonwealth can admit to these days.”

David couldn’t help the frown forming on his face any more than the suspicion clouding his judgment. “You sure know a lot about the Raiders.”

Killian chuckled. “It shocks me that you question my relations to an unprofitable organization over the fact that I am an educated smuggler.”

“Well,” David blinked considerately, “that, too.”

Killian’s expression turned thoughtful. “Good, abiding citizens like to think all pirates lust after women and a good shipment – which is completely accurate. I however have only one lass in my life. She’s my only treasure and I couldn’t want anything more.”

David had never met anyone accompanied with that particular shade of bliss and affection – especially towards a starship. And this was coming from a dishonest, thieving scoundrel.

“You learn something every day,” he murmured.

“What’s that?”

“Never mind. So… how did you and Emma meet?”

“Don’t look so disconcerted, Lieutenant. It’s not a state secret.” Killian waved a hand and lounged back into his seat, gazing at the starscape. “You know she worked at that lovely heap of a repair shop, yeah? Well, she didn’t want to stick around there for long. Don’t blame her. She said she always wanted to start her own bounty hunting business – build everything with her own two hands from the ground up. And she can do it. The lass has potential, although she lacks the reputation. In order to acquire clients, a tracker needs to be well known. Emma didn’t have circles so she made them.”

“With you,” gathered David.

“Why not?” Killian’s eyebrows shot up as he shrugged. “I know her boss, Dusty, and he sent her a line. She sought out my experience with contractors. I gave her some tips, we traded a few stories... The rest is, as they say, history.” He twiddled his fingers in midair to signal a close to the tale.

David frowned at the abrupt end. Something told him it was far from it. “What happened?”

Killian didn’t reply at first. His face remained cool and quiet as he stared into the viewport and beyond. “She said she had other responsibilities. Couldn’t follow through on half-made plans.”

His voice was stripped of its usual charisma. He actually wasn’t trying to impress David in that moment, nor priding himself on his value. David felt the disappointment wafting off of Killian and caught it too. Deep down, Emma was an idealist. She lusted after the stars and all the mystery they held. And to give all that up for one more shot in Cosmofleet?

No, that didn’t make sense. David had a feeling it was more than Cosmofleet that convinced Emma to turn her back on her dream. A position didn’t do that. A _person_ could.

“It’s a shame,” said Killian. “She has the stuff to be a great tracker.”

In a most ironic turn of events, Emma made her presence known with a knock to the door’s frame.

The heads of Killian and David whirled simultaneously to the noise. They looked at her like they had seen an interplanetary phenomenon.

“How long have you been standing there?” David asked.

Emma stared at him wordlessly before panning to Killian. “How are we doing on the Raider hunt?”

“The device should be getting a ping soon. We’ve been making hyperspace jumps every half hour. In fact…” Killian leaned forward to access the controls. He viewed one of the screens laying out streams of data. “Yeah, I thought so…”

Both David and Emma peered over his shoulder. They squinted at the indecipherable language of numbers and symbols scrolling by.

“You care to elaborate?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“This quadrant we’re passing through is a hot spot for Raider parties. And I don’t mean your academy frat house merrymaking. There’s a small space station around here…” His hands flew over the panel, bringing more data up on the screen. “As I thought: a fuel station, one convoy, several scout fighters scattered about.”

“How big of a convoy are we talking about?”

Killian shrugged. “Won’t know unless we drop out of hyperspace and lift the shades.”

Emma flushed with sudden anger. “I thought this cloaking device could detect anything!”

“Well, it’s not an exact science…”

“Even most science isn’t an exact –“

“ _David_.” She cut him off with a stern glare. “Killian, based on your non-exact science tracking technology what are the chances that our Raider ship is a part of that convoy?”

“Eeeh, seventy-thirty.”

“That’s better than before. I’ll take it.” Emma brought her hands to her hips and ducked her head in thought. “I’m not familiar with this ship’s maneuverability, so is it likely that we can cook up an ambush strategy?”

“I prefer to bet on odds more credible than ‘likely.’” He cocked his head. “Then again, I’ve banked on worse.”

“So do I have to ask?”

“Oh, I can do it. Once we enter realspace I can narrow down the results by your description of the ship that escaped Quarthos. Bloody things are all dissimilar down to the size of their propellant tanks.”

David frowned. “How easy can that be? And to perform a sneak attack with everyone watching?”

“Let’s just say if we were to drop in and say hi I’d feel more comfortable with our cloak enabled.”

“You’re wagering a lot on this technology of yours,” Emma commented with a raised brow.

“Mates,” Killian spread his arms out and smiled. “I make my living on wagers.”

* * *

The _Jolly Roger_ drifted slow and easy. Thanks to its advanced tech, it wasn’t detectable on radar nor could it be seen with the naked eye. Swimming through space, the ship was invisible as if blanketed with transparency. While it did so, its starboard airlock approached the Raider equivalent.

Killian’s eyes were locked on his navi-computer. His hand had a steady grip on the stick as he made minute corrections. The crosshair on the screen swayed left and right as he maintained control. Aligning the airlocks was no small feat. One centimeter off and durasteel scrapped like nails on a chalkboard, alarms would go off, and hulls would be breached. It was dangerous business, especially when one of the ships was oblivious to being docked with.

“Has this ever been done before?” asked David

“Not unless you go by the name of Killian Jones and possess his striking talent and good looks.”

David rolled his eyes.

The ship gave a small jolt as the clamps locked in place. A perfect seal was necessary for docking and when the computer gave Killian a satisfactory bleep he began shut down sequence.

“We’re okay to go,” Killian called into his headset. “You armed and ready to give these guys a scare, partner?”

Standing armed and ready in the cargo hold, Emma touched the comm attached to her ear and replied, “Better hurry your ass down here. I can’t promise to save them all for you.”

David’s features scrunched. “Save what for you?”

A cackle emitted from Killian as he slipped two scraped and battered hold-out blasters into his thigh holsters. “Raiders, Davy boy. Raiders.” A slap of his hand met the lieutenant’s back.

“You intend to kill them all?” David gaped.

“Not if she convinces me to stun their cowardly arses.”

“Well, wait for me.”

“Not so fast, scientist.” Killian stopped him with a hand. “You won’t be joining the party.”

“What? Of course I’m coming! I’m Emma’s backup!”

Whatever sounded perfectly reasonable to David elicited a chuckle and a snort from Killian. He was grinning at this pathetic excuse for “backup” and scratching the back of his head. How to put it gently without hurting the poor man’s ego? “Listen, mate. You get the most important job. I didn’t mention it before because I didn’t want to cause a row with the lass.”

David straightened, expression brightening. “What job?”

“You get to sit right there in the captain’s chair and protect the ship.”

Killian clapped him on the shoulder and high tailed it out of there before David’s enthusiasm began its downfall.

“Wh-wha?” Head swinging left and right, David found himself alone in the cockpit. “Nuh-uh. Not this time. I am not being left to _oversee_ things from behind the front line. I’m here to kick Raider arse!”

He snatched the most imposing looking gun from the armory rack and marched for the cargo hold.

* * *

They waited for the room between the airlocks to decompress, guns and nerves posed for battle. Many dangers lied on the other side of the hatch. The Raiders may have foreseen their attack and flushed the corridors full with soldiers. There could be row upon row of them waiting on the other side, just waiting for a chance to pull off a killing shot.

Emma heaved the blaster rifle against her shoulder. It wasn’t her usual choice of weapon, but a snub-nosed pistol wouldn’t do. One had to be adequately armed to face a hoard of Freedom Raiders. The terrorists fought dirty – no rules, no fair fights. In addition to the rifle, Emma carried a short blade which was sheathed and strapped to her back. The handle was just over her right shoulder and within grabbing distance. The weight on her back felt like a shield of defense and put her much at ease.

Emma thought back to all the last conversations she had with the people she cared about. The subject of Henry couldn’t be touched; just the thought of his blue eyes and gap-toothed smile made her eyes burn and glisten over. With Regina there was no doubt about it; their last words were a bickering match over the crackling radio waves. And Mary Margaret… she and Emma agreed that they should sit down and have a talk soon. Emma just hoped it was before she got herself into another crisis and not after she got her head blown off.

“If the Raiders have been alerted of our presence,” she said, eyes fixed to the door, “this could be a short ambush.”

Killian gripped the handles of his guns, one in each hand, and smiled wryly at her. “Sounds like you want to back out.”

“No, I’m just preparing you. You don’t look like you’ve seen a lot of action lately.”

He scoffed. A tapping heel sounded. Next to him, David’s nervous hands were getting reacquainted with the weight of his crossbow blaster. He had one firm clutch on the handle and another cradling the barrel grip. The officer wet his lips and nodded to himself as if in reassurance that he was a badass.

Killian chuckled. “You regret leaving your cozy starship?”

Though always having defended the importance of the mission, deep down David knew Emma would stop at nothing to find Regina. There was also the matter of his longing after field work. There was no doubt about it: he’d get his chance to get in on some of the action. It would be extremely dangerous, but exciting nonetheless.

“Not on your life.”

The Jolly Roger’s airlock beeped once before hissing open. A rush of recycled air hit them and they piled in. There was no window on the Raider’s hatch door, so they couldn’t know what awaited them beyond.

David began work on bypassing the airlock mechanism. When the light on the wall flashed from red to green he said, “Okay. We’re a go in thirty seconds.”

“So what’s it going to be, Swan? Stun or kill?”

Emma opened her mouth, but before she could say her brow furrowed. Her eyes flicked downward. The blaster rifle weighed heavier in her hands, about as heavy as the many burdens she had taken on in the last 24-hours.

“Stun.” She grit her teeth before shooting them a conflicted look. “For now.”

The hatch hissed open.

Killian raised his brow. “Ooo, ominous.”

The corridor was faintly lit and occupied with shadows. No army, no battalion of troops or canons set to plow them down like dominos.

“Where to, Jones?”

“Seeing as I’m familiar with the specs of this type of vessel… I’d say that way.”

Emma and David raised their weapons and followed.

“Where are we going?” David whispered to her.

“To meet the Raider captain. If we control the bridge, we control the ship.”

He nodded, gathering, “If Regina is here we can convince the captain to tell us where she is.”

“You say that like it’s going to be a conversation."

“Isn’t it?”

Emma shot him a scolding glare. “We’re not here for tea with the Raiders, David.”

“Right. Of course not.”

She rolled her eyes. “So…” Emma paused to glance about, making sure they had not been spotted. “What do you think of our resident pirate?”

“Killian?” David’s face did something odd. He struggled as a frown pulled his features down, but at the last second there grew a small upturn at the corner of his mouth. He lifted a shoulder. “He has his uses.”

“There’s more there than meets the eye, and I’m not just talking about Killian.” Emma suppressed her amusement. The lieutenant had stars in his eyes. There was no way David could slip those under a microscope for analysis.

When they came up short behind Killian, they peered over his shoulder. Around the corner a troop of sentinels lined either side of the walls. There were about twenty of them, all dressed in black and gray fatigues, chest armor, helmets, and deadly rifles.

With an incline of his head, Killian indicated to the weapons. “Want to bet _those_ are set to kill.”

Emma eyed the blasters warily. “Is there an alternate route we can take?”

“Not if you hate air ducts.”

Several minutes later all three of them were crawling single file on their hands and knees. Apparently the vents hadn’t been cleaned lately based on the grim collecting on their sweaty palms.

Grunting with the effort to move at a silent crawl, Emma remarked to the boots ahead of her. “It’s a good thing Ruby didn’t tag along.”

David twisted around to catch Emma’s warped grin. “Did she show you those movies, too?”

“I didn’t have a choice. And by the looks of your grim expression I’d guess you didn’t either.”

He laughed back (nervously, of course). “I’ll tell you something,” he said, turning back around and continuing the crawl. “There may not be any xenomorphs on this ship, but I’d feel a whole lot safer if we carried one those flamethrowers with us.”

Killian spun his yellow glow stick onto the snickering duo. “What in blazes is the hold up?”

“Nothing,” Emma coughed. “Just reminiscing about aliens.”

“You won’t find any in this tiny crawlspace.”

“You never know,” David pointed out just as more chuckling resonated.

“Will you two pipe down!” hissed Killian. “Your chitchat is going to attract attention and then you’ll have more to worry about than aliens. This whole crawlspace could be filled with smoking holes if you don’t shut it!”

Amusement petered out to simultaneous replies of “sorry.”

At the junction near the main bridge, they stumbled out of the vent and brushed themselves down. The hatchway doors were secured and protected by two sentries.

“Wait here.”

Emma and David frowned as they watched the pirate waltz up to the Raiders. His guns were in their holsters and his hands hung not far away.

“Good day, mates!” he chimed. A healthy smile was plastered to his face. “How’s it going these days?”

“This is a restricted area,” said one of the troopers. He lifted the faceplate of his helmet and studied Killian’s strange dress. “What’s your unit, soldier?”

“Unit?” Killian inclined his head forward, mind racing until he broke out into recognition. He clapped his hands together. “Oh, _unit_. Sorry to disappoint but I’m not a part of any unit. I’m here to see the captain.”

“Unless he’s expecting you, there is no way you will be passing beyond this point.”

“He doesn’t know I’m here. I wanted it to be a bit of an ambush – I mean, _surprise_.” He winked for good measure.

The trooper glanced at his partner before retrieving a comlink from his belt. “I’m going to have to hail security if you don’t step back.”

Killian played dumb and just ratcheted up the charm. “Oh, Charlie’s a grand old friend of mine. He won’t mind!” His hand settled on one of the trooper’s shoulders.

“Hold it! Stay where you are!” The trooper stepped back. Both he and the other guard raised their guns.

“Now, now.” Killian raised his arms, smile still in place. “Is that any way to greet the infamous Captain Hook?”

The troopers’ eyes broadened as if some infernal terror had descended upon them. They glanced at each other, their lips trembling like the guns in their hands.

“Y-you’re not him,” the lead trooper said. “You have no hook!”

“N-no hook,” mumbled the other in agreement.

Killian glanced at each of his hands, wiggling his fingers for good measure. “Is that so? Well, you can thank the marvel of prosthetics for that!”

His right hand clenched into a fist and walloped into the trooper’s face. The nose gave a sickening crack and he fainted before ever reaching the ground. Killian pulled his fist back again, cocking his head in warning to the other trooper who just shook his head dumbly and stepped back.

Before Killian could let his fist loose there was a _ka-blam!_ followed by a blue ray of light. The bolt hit the trooper in the chest and sent him sprawling.

Killian kicked the shiny black boot of the fallen soldier. “That stun setting sure does the trick,” he remarked.

Emma passed him, sassing from the corner of her mouth, “Yeah, you should try it sometime.”

The manual override for the main bridge doors was concealed in the wall. David pried open the cover and toyed with the wires.

Killian propped his guns up so his thumbs grazed his ears. “On three?”

Emma nodded, cocking her rifle.

Fiddling with his own weapon, David panned between the two professionals with a crazed look.

“You have to turn the safety off,” advised Killian who reached over trembling fingers to flip the switch.

The crossbow gave a click and a healthy hum, signaling its readiness to stun.

David’s heart pounded in his chest. He could barely feel his face as he smiled and said, “Thanks.”

“Okay,” sighed Emma. She swallowed and took a deep breath before counting down. “One…”

Killian sniffed and set his mouth in a grim expression of business. His business, of course, meant blowing things to space parts.

“Two…”

The perspiration from David’s brow trickled down his nose, so he whipped it away with the sleeve of his jacket. With one hand on his rifle, he readied his other on the wire to be touched against the appropriate circuit.

Emma inhaled through her nose, index finger pawing at the trigger, and let it out. “Three.”

A colorful shower of sparks sailed from the override, causing a plume of smoke to cloud the air. The hatch doors parted, the smoke that concealed the team rushing into the bridge and startling the personnel.

A hailstorm of blaster fire ensued. Smoke and fervor permeated the bridge. A crossfire of red and blue bolts sizzled past each other, some missing intended targets and hitting machinery while others sunk into flesh and knocking them unconscious.

People coughed on the fumes, screamed, begged, and cried out. Bodies dropped to the floor and collapsed over control panels. More sparks flew. Alarms went off, painting their faces red and determined.

When the last Raider collapsed, the bridge fell silent. Emma quickly looked about to ensure that the other two were safe and unharmed. Killian was dragging bodies off consoles and out of the way. David stood in the middle of the disorder, trying not to touch anything.

Then a squawking radio cut the silence.

_“Security here. What’s happened, Captain?”_

After sharing a panicked glance with Emma, Killian raced to the communications station. “We had a small weapons malfunction. Situation normal.”

_“Do you require additional assistance?”_

“Negative. We’re all fine. Everything’s fine right now… How are you?” Killian winced even as he said it.

_“Who is this? Where is the captain?”_

“Smooth,” David mumbled with a roll of his eyes.

A crumpled figure in a crisp black uniform, unique from the others, groaned and blinked himself awake.

“Rise and shine,” barked Emma. She gave him a rough shake before she and Killian hauled him over to the comm panel. “Call your dogs off, Captain.”

A trickle of blood ran from his crimson-stained mouth. He spat at their feet and growled, “Pirate scum!”

“Killian, I think the captain requires a bit of persuasion.”

The pirate smiled. He lifted one of his pistols, aimed it at the man’s knee, and squeezed the trigger.

The captain let out a wail of a scream.

“That’s just stun. It’d be a fright to feel a wound like that on ‘kill.’”

Sucking in a breath, he nodded feverishly.

Emma smiled appreciatively at Killian and they helped their captive up to the speaker.

“Everything is fine, Weatherly.” The captain grimaced as a boot heel pressed into his aching knee. “Security can stand down. That is an order.”

_“Yes, sir.”_

When the connection ended they shoved the Raider captain into a chair.

“Now,” Emma set her jaw and glowered over the man, “you’re going to tell us where Commander Mills is being held. No lies, no tricks. I want answers.”

“Who?”

She approached him with a snarl and snatched his crisp collar. “I said no lies! We were in Quarthos’ orbit when she was ambushed. You killed my team and imprisoned my captain!”

Any fool could tell she was livid enough to commit murder for her commanding officer, but the Raider continued to stare. He gaged her sincerity with his finely tuned judgment. He spent enough years in the company of criminals and exiles to identify a desperate soul when he saw one.

The clashing guise of hope and loss staring back at him proved that the girl was more than just a cog in the twisted machine of Cosmofleet. He had seen that face in the countless others who were driven to his shelter. The Commonwealth had a way with sending the Raiders all of its deprived youth in search of a new world order.

He sputtered into a laugh. Blood and spit mixed and formed bubbles at the corners of his mouth.

“What do you find so amusing?” Killian sneered.

Emma reached behind her back to unsheathe the short sword. Like the Old World naval cutlass, it was slightly curved on the cutting edge and fixed with a hilt guard. She brandished it before the widened eyes of the captain.

“I’m not positive myself because I’ve never used one, but I hear that a durasteel blade is more painful and permanent than a vibroknife.” She stared at it in awe as the polished surface reflected the captain’s terror. “No heat, so it doesn’t cauterize upon contact. Just a sharp, cold blade.”

Beside her, Killian chewed the inside of his cheek. Even he was getting chills.

“I could disembowel you, but it’d make a mess of your nice bridge. What’s it going to be?”

David’s jaw dropped. He began to intervene until Killian pressed him back.

“The lass has a score to settle. Best not get in the way.”

“Tell me what I need to know,” Emma demanded.

“You came a long way,” the captain told her, a chuckle still persisting at the back of his throat. “You risked your life and your friends’ lives. For what purpose?”

“My commander –“

“Yes, your commander. Who is lying now?” He gave a snort of derision. “Cosmofleet’s chain of command is no different from the Raiders’. We carry out orders blindly and with no question. There is no room for doubt like there is no room for regard or even friendship between commanding officers and their inferiors. It is only natural. There is no going against it otherwise you’d find yourself demoted or worse, dismissed.”

The worn, semi-nostalgic expression told Emma he knew something about consequences. She feared them as well and escaped before she could get burned. Now she was back in the game and feeling the heat of the flames.

She shook herself of the sympathy threatening to loosen her grip. Her hand clutched the captain’s collar tighter, closer to his neck. She urged him to continue, half curious to discover what happens when fire consumes.

“Foregoing any thought of reprimand, you cross systems, barriers, defying the orders of your captain and your shameless fleet. You dive into enemy territory with a death wish and come asking me where your captain is? Those are not the actions of an officer carrying out her orders.”

Emma’s eyes burned with tears. She swallowed hard. She needed to ask it even if she had to repeat herself. Nothing would put her mind at ease if she couldn’t prove that she tried to move the stars to get an answer. Good news or bad, she needed to know. “Where is she?” demanding shakily.

Grunting from the effort to sit up in the chair, the captain took Emma in with a careful eye. He tipped his head, asking with an oddly tender voice, “Tell me, does she return the sentiment?” She offered him all he needed in the torment carved into her face. “Then it was for nothing,” he said flatly, looking away. He knew his fate. As captain he would take it in whatever form. “I almost feel sorry for you.” He shook his head sadly and said, “We were a decoy ship. She is not here. She never was.”

Emma frowned. “I saw you leave the surface! You were there and then you jumped to hyperspace! She is here. Now tell me _where!_ ”

“Not here,” the captain repeated. Somehow, delivering the news in a softer tone seemed to get through to her.

She let him go. The Raider vanished from her thoughts, leaving her unbearably numb. Her eyes blinked, moving elsewhere to the elusive and unreachable. No matter how hard she tried it seemed she would never get there. The galaxy, it seemed, was conspiring against her.

Emma remained motionless and unreachable herself. She didn’t even notice David approaching her.

“What does this mean?” he asked.

Not far, Killian stroked his chin and watched her fall into despair.

Emma exhaled, trembling back to reality. She brought a hand up to clutch her forehead. “It means Regina has been on Quarthos this whole time.”

* * *

The planet was as blue and thriving with life as when they last saw it. On the surface, inside the Dome Capital, the team felt transported back to Earth’s Presidio with its streaking transportation and stacked elite buildings. There were differences, of course – Quarthen pedestrians, clean air, a cloudless blue sky, and a breeze that smelled of salt.

Ninety percent of Quarthos’ water surrounded them and yet all they could see were a few skyscrapers, trees, and a translucent dome overhead. Emma and David hadn’t the pleasure of a visiting before, but Killian had. A pirate who frequented many worlds, Killian spent much of his time along the Outer Reach where Commonwealth law was practically nonexistent. He actually had done business with a few Quarthens in the past, though not all of those deals ended in smiles and a credit bonus.

Walking at a brisk pace, the team made straight for the rendezvous point their last landing party had the misfortune to be ambushed at. They carried concealed weapons beneath their clothes, their steady hands not far away.

Emma kept her eyes moving and her instincts on alert at all times as she swept through the park. When she spotted the bench next to the bent tree trunk, she approached. Her hand fell to the wooden bench and grasped it till her knuckles turned white.

The plan to hunt down the fugitive craft was a stellar waste of time and fuel. Regina’s will was probably getting tested beyond all normal limits while Emma gallivanted around the Reach and trailed after a false lead. Regina might not still be alive and her only hope was using every means to sabotage a rescue.

The muscles in her jaw worked. She dug her nails deep into the wood bench without much regard for splinters. Emma wasn’t one for subtlety. She would make a scene, blaster firing, if it took her one step closer to their objective.

David’s eyes were scanning the area when he asked her, “How do you propose we find them?”

“If the Raiders got to the Quarthen before we did,” Emma said, “they’ll be watching.”

“So… they’ll be finding us then.”

Killian’s hand brushed purposefully against the pistol-shaped bulge under his coat. “Which means it’s probably an ambush.”

“At least we’re prepared for one,” Emma pointed out.

A thin, smooth voice spoke through the red leaves’ fluttering. “There is no need for outright suspicion.”

Emma and David whirled on the mystery man, blasters drawn. 

A dark face revealed itself from under the shade of the ash tree. He appeared to be in his forties, the hair at his temples just beginning to gray. His face was scared across the cheek, but clean shaven. His nose was offset and looked as if some of the cartilage had been removed. Standing as straight as a veteran soldier, he was dressed in a similar uniform to that of the Raider they had just interrogated. Flanking him were two armed troopers in black and gray fatigues. 

“We mean you know harm. Put your weapons down.” The Raider titled his head, eyes peering off to the side. “That includes you as well, pirate.”

Killian paused in his creeping up behind them. A nod from Emma had him holstering his twin blasters.

She glared at him as if he were any other Raider. “You mean us no harm,” she echoed in a sneer. “Unfortunately, my crew wasn’t honored with the same treatment last time they were here.”

“There will be plenty of time for discussion.” He smiled gently and invited them with a motion of his arm. “If you would join me in my private quarters…”

The troopers stood on either side of the three team members, not pushing but urging them on with the flaunting of their weapons.

Emma flashed a malicious smile. “That’s the plan.”

* * *

The aluminum chair had been fashioned with manacles fused to its sides and held Emma’s wrists in a rock solid bond. The metal was smooth and cool to the touch. The cuffs were not tight enough to cut off circulation or cause pain when she squirmed, but they were secure enough to keep her prisoner.

Emma’s surroundings were bare of essentials or luxuries. The room contained two chairs (one which she occupied), and a small round table on which sat an empty glass and a pitcher of clear water. Other than that, the square metal prison Emma has being held up in was just that: a prison. No force field kept her company with a cot, a toilet, and sink. It wouldn’t shock her to know the Raiders weren’t ones to indulge in simple creature comforts.

“Are you always this accommodating?”

The dark-skinned man, supposed leader of his organization, clasped his hands behind his back as if he was addressing a high council. “Until I know you are not a danger to yourself, the restraints will remain.”

“Danger to myself? Are you spaced out? I have half a mind to kill you were you stand!”

“My men can be in here within seconds. You will not get far in your vengeance. Hence the cuffs.”

“Care to make introductions? I’d like to know the name of the man I’m about to strangle.” Emma yanked on the restraints if only to prove just how committed she was to her threat.

“Plucky,” observed the Raider. “You may call me Anderson.”

“What,” she spat, “no title?

“Why? Do I look military to you?”

“It crossed my mind what with the assassins, the armed escorts, and the obvious Korobi stick up your ass. Only a high-ranking officer would have such rigid posture.”

“Mm,” he mused, grinning quietly, “in another life I went by junior grade Lieutenant Anderson. Like many young upstarts in Cosmofleet I intended to rise fast, but circumstances out of my control led me on a different course.”

“Wait, let me guess. You had no choice in joining a galaxy known terrorist group?”

“Life intervened, as they say. Now I am just Anderson.”

“Got a first name, Anderson?”

He smiled indulgently. “It’s Zane.”

Emma snorted. “Sorry.”

“Thus I am known around here as simply Anderson. Am I correct in assuming you are Lieutenant Commander Emma Swan?”

“Don’t play dumb. You wouldn’t assume information you bargained for.”

The lines around his mouth became grim, his once hospitable guise vanishing. “I’m afraid ‘bargain’ is putting it lightly.”

It clicked for Emma in the span of a second. She thrust forward but was held back by her bonds. “If you touch her, the entire fleet will come to your doorstep canons blaring!”

“You mistake her value to the Commonwealth. Even an admiral would not spark the numbers you intimidate.”

“Then _I_ will come down on you!”

“Please, Emma Swan, rest easy. She has only sustained minor interrogation. I questioned her as soon as we brought her to the premises.”

Emma swallowed, chest burning with grief. She asked anxiously, “And the others? Valentino, Clarke, and Valdez?”

“Unfortunate losses.” Anderson bowed his head. “I am truly sorry, Lieutenant Commander, for I did not intend for their deaths.”

“Not as sorry as I am,” she growled. She struggled again to free herself but the legs of the aluminum chair only squeaked in resistance. “Where is Commander Mills? What in seven hells was so important to ask her that you had to bait her to Quarthos? And why would you keep her alive when she gunned after your gang of criminals?”

“First off, she is safe and awaiting you in another location.” His raised a hand to cut off her next question. “You may not be released until we have had the conversation you were brought here for. Secondly, while Commander Mills is condemned by the whole of my _people_ , we have far more pressing matters to deal with. We still hold her responsible for the thoughtless destruction she has reaped, but she is a much smaller target in an escalating war.” Anderson pursed his lips and inclined his head. “And unlike the more… ambitious members of this organization, I do not engage in butchery. She lives because I refuse to stoop to the level of treachery either of us reports to. Just remember, you have only met me. You don’t want to go accusing me of things I have not done, now do you?”

Emma peered closely at him. A strange credibility surrounded him. Despite her circumstances (held to a chair and all), this Anderson treated her with respect and carried himself with honor. The same couldn’t be said of the average Freedom Raider. Nevertheless, respect and honor were two traits hard to come by even in Cosmofleet these days.

“The reason for her capture,” Emma stated, “Sidney as the lure, her interrogation, the decoy … for what? What does she have that you want?”

“Soon you will realize that the events of recent passing all come down to one person. That person is not Regina Mills.”

“Then who?”

“You, Emma Swan.”

The smooth uttering of her name sent her reeling. She jerked her head back, frowning. “Who am I to anyone?”

“Anyone?” Anderson scoffed lightly, almost with a touch of humor. “ _Everyone_. You mean something special to a great many.”

She gave a humorless laugh. “This is the first I’m hearing this.”

“That is because the late Leopold White did not wish it.”

“Leopold? What does that no good bastard have to do with me?”

Anderson’s hands loosened from behind his back and hung at his sides. He gave a weary sigh and touched the back of the chair opposite her. “I suppose that is as good a place as any to begin.” He hesitated once, searching the floor, before taking a seat. Crossing one leg over the other, he clasped his battle worn hands in his lap. “Decades ago, when the Commonwealth was but a fledgling democracy of star systems, a book surfaced. Though penned by an anonymous author, the book contained a tale that would be inscribed into the hearts and minds of thousands.

“This tale prophesized great abuses which would lead to a schism. Many great men and women would fall while the greedy and corrupt would rise. This imbalance could only be rectified by a single being. The book told of a Chosen One – no name, lineage, or depiction of appearance. The only particulars outlined in the story were of the knight’s courage and heart.

“Years went by, the Commonwealth gained strength and numbers, Cosmofleet was founded, and soon the prophecy faded from memory. Only a few persisted in the belief that a savior would come to liberate the people. There were others who took on a more fearful belief that the savior was a threat to their will and order.”

Anderson smiled softly. “As you might have guessed, the Freedom Raiders stand by the prophecy while the Commonwealth opposes – not every official aligned with the government, of course, just a corrupt few. But I don’t think I have to tell you how much damage one person can cause.”

“Leopold.” She grit her teeth as bile burned and tickled at the back of her throat.

“Indeed. He lost his way long ago. His personal grievance with the fleet led him down a dark path. In his descent, he became just as corrupt as the government we struggled to overthrow. Leopold coerced his disciplines into committing terrorism and great acts of violence. In doing so, he spoiled our true cause.”

“And what exactly is that? If not to spread terror.”

“To prove to the public just how devious their leadership has become. Their minds have been twisted without their knowing. Infractions on civil liberties and species’ rights have occurred close to home as well as to the furthest outpost, and yet the holonews does not report. The people cannot comprehend the Commonwealth’s reach without adequate evidence.”

“Why wasn’t Leopold stopped before?” Emma challenged, face flushed with exasperation. “If there are people like you who don’t resort to murder and kidnapping as you say, how could you have let this go on for so long?”

Anderson looked down, shaking his head. “Leopold was a militant arm of the Raiders and he attracted many followers with similar grievances against the Commonwealth. I tried to make him see reason. I did not want an uprising in our own camp any more than I wanted our people to be misunderstood as terrorists. But there was too much at stake. Thankfully, Commander Mills got to him before I ever found the nerve. There are some who would not agree with me, but I truly believe we owe her a great debt.”

“He was a monster. Leopold got what he deserved.”

“Indeed. The Raiders’ reign of terror died with him and his devoted followers on Zelphi Six that day. Most of it, at least. There is opposition in our ranks, but they are outcasts for the most part.” Anderson sighed, his shoulders resting easy like a great weight had been lifted. “That is, as they say, the gist of it all. I have wanted to tell you this story for some time now, but I could not get to you before dealing with Leopold.”

Emma’s eyes searched his. She failed to detect a lie. Unfortunate for her. “You refer to a prophecy – a story from a decades old book – of a person who will bring balance to the galaxy…” She bit at her lip, shaking her head at the likelihood. “You believe this person to be me?”

“Yes.”

She blew out a gust of a sigh as he confirmed it, rolling her eyes. What in seven hells had these people dragged her into?

“If I am who you say I am, can you at least let me out of these cuffs? Your savior is feeling a bit ill-treated.”

Anderson stood, but before he approached the lock on her bonds he tipped his head and asked, “I trust you won’t take any untimely course of action once I release you?”

Emma thought about it. Despite the amount of crazy he just recounted, he didn’t seem liable to break his word. She may be wholly unamused by his storytelling, but she trusted her instincts.

“Can I trust that that pitcher of water over there isn’t laced with poison?”

He chuckled, helping her out of the bonds. “By all means.” He waved to the beverage table.

Emma rubbed the stiffness from her wrists and poured herself a glass. She closed her eyes and drank Quarthos’ purified water in deeply.

“You look like you went through a wormhole.”

Emma wiped an errant drop from her chin and placed the glass down. “You’re not far off,” she mused. She ran a hand through her hair, wincing at the snarls and whatever filth she’d been wearing for the past 48-hours. “Honestly? I don’t know what you expect of me. I mean, how would you react if someone told you you were the galaxy’s only hope?”

“It sounds crazy, right?”

“Something like that. You sound as if you’re twenty years out of space dock.”

“Technically, I am,” he pointed out with a single rise of his eyebrow.

Emma chuckled. “You know, you have more nerve than you give yourself credit for. I couldn’t see you lasting long as Leopold’s replacement without it.”

“Oh, I don’t intend to stay in the hot seat for long. You questioned my expectations just a moment ago. I’d like for you to take over operations and become the voice of our cause.”

“Spokeswoman?” She laughed. “You must not know me very well. I’m the last person you want speaking for your people.”

“That’s not what my spies in Cosmofleet tell me. You happen to carry yourself rather splendidly in the line of duty.” Anderson inclined his head. “A bit careless with your life, yes, but even the best leaders had rough beginnings. People look close enough at a lost cause and decide to give them a chance to become something more. That is all I am doing here, Emma. I’m offering you an opportunity to stretch your limits and see how good you really are.”

“And I’m just supposed to take you at your word? Where’s the proof? Where is this book of tales you talked about?”

“The book… it is lost.” Anderson opened his arms hopelessly before pressing his hands together. “I myself haven’t seen its pages.”

“So you follow blindly. You fall for a prophecy so old there’s no proof.”

“Faith, Emma, is stronger than proof. It is elusive and wondrous and sometimes more than anyone can imagine.”

“You’re asking the impossible. I’m not the person you’re looking for.”

“Recent events say you –“

“I don’t think you understand. Even if I was this… Chosen One, I can’t. I have responsibilities of my own. I already have a duty to safeguard the galaxy in addition to my crew. You may not have confidence in Cosmofleet but _I_ do. There are things I haven’t owned up to,” Emma mumbled vacantly. Her features turned serious then as she turned back to Anderson. “And I have a son who needs me. As far as I’m concerned he comes before the gods blasted universe does.”

“I sympathize with your unwillingness to accept the role. I admit, this is quite the thing to live up to, but you have a great many that already support you. Myself included. Without you there would be no reason for any of this: my people’s vendetta against the Commonwealth, Regina’s revenge, your promotion to _Storybrooke_ –“

“My _what?_ How is my promotion to first officer even remotely connected to your cause?”

Anderson leaned forward and supported his elbows on his knees. He steepled his hands, pursing his lips as he did so. “Emma, are you absolutely sure? There are things that –“

“I’m positive.” She folded her arms, resting herself in the chair, waiting.

“I hate to be the one to tell you this. It’s not right that this should come from a stranger.” He sighed, shaking off the need to prolong the truth. It was a regiment he grew tired of, but it had been done for her own good. No longer wishing to keep Emma in the dark, he told her. “Dubious circumstances surround your graduation from the academy. You were a bright cadet in the cockpit, but there were other areas where your teachers thought you’d never improve. If you ask me, the whole curriculum is awash with pointless subjects. I myself had a rough go of it and although I managed to see myself through it I can hardly say my studies in advanced quantum mechanics have gone a long way.”

He smiled and when he looked up to see Emma deadpan his amusement faded. “Anyway, when men rise to power they do not do so without help from the opposition. Leopold needed to recruit the enemy and he did so on many occasions. These spies infiltrate Cosmofleet and high ranks of the government as I speak. But not all went along with his designs. The daughter of one of his most devoted followers refused to defect. Leopold paid dearly for it.”

“Regina,” breathed Emma. “Cora Mills betrayed her own daughter for this bastard?”

“You know as well as I that our connections, whether by blood or friendship, have a tendency to cloud our judgment. A king is only as powerful as his wife’s intentions.  Cora had plans of her own, which included the commander.”

“I don’t understand. How do I fit in all of this?”

“Cora believed you to be the Chosen One and convinced Leopold that… how do I put this? She thought a more _inexperienced_ first officer would eliminate any suspicion surrounding Regina’s impending defection. Leopold took her advice and used his spies in Cosmofleet to put your future in motion.”

“I don’t know whether or not I should be offended by a dead woman’s poor judgment.”

“Cora was clever enough to fool Leopold, but she did not live long enough to realize how wrong her assumptions about you were. You proved to be more than a dull pawn.”

“So if Cora wanted to manipulate the Chosen One into a position of irrelevance and take over the Raiders, what was Leopold’s excuse? He doesn’t strike me as a fatalist.”

“An opportunist through and through,” Anderson agreed. “Leopold didn’t believe in the prophecy. He believed in power. Yet for as blinded by this as he was, he did not lack common sense. More Raiders believed in a Chosen One than not, and Leopold needed to tread carefully if he was to crush their faith.” 

Emma frowned, blinking back confusion. “He can’t have killed everyone who believed in the prophecy. There would have been no one left to rule over.”

“He didn’t have to kill them. He just had to kill the idea. Although Leopold thought our foretold hero was a bedtime story, he could not allow any more suspicion. He had one of his spies lure you to Xelphi Six by using your young son. Once there the spy, Mulan, would eliminate you and put an end to the prophecy.”

“Yeah,” Emma gave a sardonic smirk, “ _that_ worked out brilliantly.”

“Yet another example of your prophesized valor.”

Unceremoniously, Emma crossed her legs, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know who’s more ruthless,” she mused darkly, reliving the foul, unmasked plots in her mind, “Leopold or Cora.”

“Does it matter?”

Emma’s eyes quickly returned to the confusion in Anderson. “It might to their children. Regina and Leopold’s daughter, Mary Margaret, may not have been on speaking terms with their parents, but I’m sure it wasn’t always like that. I’m a mother. I know it takes more than a time out to dissolve a relationship.”

Anderson chuckled. “Yes, perhaps so.”

With the discussion’s turn to Regina, Emma sobered to priority. Prophecies and failed deceit were not the reasons why she came to Quarthos. For as trigger-happy-determined as she was in apprehending Regina’s captors, Emma no longer felt as violent in her aims. She found herself to be steady-handed and relatively emotionally stable considering what she had just been told.

“I can’t deal with this right now,” she announced before it could register in her mind. She stood suddenly, eyes moving anxiously. “I want to see Regina.”

Anderson nodded. “As you should. I will take you to her now.” He rose, but before getting far he paused and looked back at her. “For obvious reasons, I’d prefer that whatever you heard here today not be relayed to your fleet and the Commonwealth. However, I trust in the prophecy, Emma, so I trust in you. You are free to confide in anyone you chose.”

Peering closely at his word, Emma settled with a shrug. “Fair enough.”

“I don’t advise it lightly. You may not trust in my people, but there are those who will listen to what you have to say and how you feel. I’m sure one of them will be reunited with you soon enough. She appears to believe in you more than you do,” he mused with an unreadable grin. “Just have faith, Emma. When you accept your part, you will have taken your first step into a larger galaxy.”

When Anderson turned his back and led her out, Emma rolled her eyes. What a day, she thought and shook her head.

They traveled down a few windowless hallways, down a turbolift, and through several security checkpoints. When they arrived at the interrogation room, two guards were standing at the door. Their helmets were off, revealing their animated faces. Oblivious to approaching visitors, they smoked vaporettes and conversed jovially.

“Folks back home won’t believe it if we gave them the hologram.”

“You recorded it? Alright!”

“Yeah, but they’ll probably say it’s a simulated holo. They’re all scared of the bitch. Don’t know why. She squealed like a burning witch.”

Before Emma could throw a punch, the level lying gurney and its occupant came into view. Her breath stole from her very lungs at the unconscious form of her captain. Wordlessly, she flew to her side.

The two medical technicians working on Regina gave Emma room.

“What is the meaning of this?” scolded Anderson.

At the entrance of their leader they snapped to.

“We came to administer the sedative you ordered,” the female doctor explained and gestured directly at the two guards, “when these two were in midst of harming the commander. She is critically injured and, considering the damage sustained, I’d venture her mental state to be hysterical if she were conscious.”

The male doctor nodded and added, “They used unwarranted methods, Anderson. There is only so much a sentient can take. These blasted fools should be _severely_ reprimanded.”

“What in blazes?” Anderson eyes narrowed into the thinning hide of the guards. He panned between them scowling, “Are you two blitzed or just plain dumb? My instructions were to leave her be. She was to be put under light sedation until I brought Emma Swan!”

The guard’s lips tightened in rebuttal. “But, _sir_ , we couldn’t very well allow her to go unpunished for –“

“You disobeyed a direct order! This is the kind of shameless behavior we’ve been trying to circumvent. Do you have any idea what is at stake?” Before the guards could fetch an answer, Anderson thrust a finger in their faces and threatened a mighty glare. “To the brig! You will live to regret this grievous error.”

The female tech returned to Regina’s bedside. “We’ve tended to the more critical wounds,” she told Emma, gently waking her from her stupor by laying a hand on the shoulder. “But we must finish and apply a pain reliever while she’s still out.”

Emma registered the voice and then saw a bandage roll being unraveled. She went on the offensive.

“Don’t touch her! Get away from her now!”

The med techs lurched back, wide eyes glued to the pistol aimed at their midsection. Anderson stared Emma in the eyes. He remained as cool and reserved as any practiced captain.

“We don’t want your help,” Emma declared. “We never did. So why don’t you just leave us alone?”

The blaster was heavy in her hand. If she registered anything more than that she’d realize it was shaking as every part of her committed to the same.

If this really was all about her, why did Regina have to get caught in the crossfire? She may have wreaked havoc on many occasions, but she hardly deserved this level of cruelty. Emma couldn’t escape her part in this stupid prophecy any more than she could wash her hands of responsibility in Regina’s injuries. There were so many things she could have done. If Emma had been quicker to act, creative enough to compose a legitimate plan that didn’t include a blasted pirate, and sufficiently mature to keep her cool she might have reached Regina in time.

A great tremor had her arm dropping to her side. The blaster slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor.

“Emma.” Anderson’s voice jerked her guilt-ridden face from Regina’s bruised, beaten, and burned body. “You are free to go. Anyone associated with me or the Freedom Raiders will henceforth stay out of your way. We are no longer your enemy.” His eyes flicked down to the slowly rousing woman curling into Emma’s arms. “Or your commander’s.”

Emma suppressed her usual colorful retorts. The insults, threats, and clenching fists were needless when Anderson and his prophecy were steadily slipping in importance. The only subject at the forefront of her mind, her one focus, was Regina’s safety. It always had been.

Emma bent over the bed and scooped the body into her arms. She held her tight.

“I’m taking you home.”


	7. Chapter 7

When Regina came to, her head was clouded in thick fog. Everything was a blanket of darkness behind the lids of her eyes. She couldn’t feel pain, nor any sensations for that matter. She had no sense of time or place. For all she knew she could be dead.

The thought of death and all the people she’d be leaving behind sparked her into action. A surge of strength sang through her body and she managed to pry her eyes open. The movement was slow and mind numbing at first, but then it was like all feeling came flooding back.

A pained groan emitted from her open mouth. Everything ached. She could barely move a muscle without earning a licking of flames along her limbs. It hardly reached the intensity of pain she received during her torture, but it was just enough to dull her senses and keep her from the slightest activity.

Regina’s eyes focused through the haze of whatever cocktail she’d been treated with. When her vision improved she began seeing the outline of a person, a man. The dark clothed figure hovered over her, fiddling with some tube attached to her arm.

Alarm bells started blaring in her head. Her body instantly responded to danger by wrenching away from the stranger.

“Oi! Not so fast!”

Eyes flying open and arms waving, she recoiled from the large looming hands. Since her capture, she hadn’t the opportunity to really test her motor skills. She had never been tortured or had succumbed to high volts of electricity, so she had little understanding of what shape her body might be in after the fact.

Now Regina truly knew what weakness felt like. She barely had control of her arms for they were as heavy as duracrete slabs. Her vision had not cleared fully, so the man attacking her remained unidentified. Regina was overwhelmingly incapacitated, terrified, and confused. The only part of her that still worked was her vocal chords. She could not fight back, so she screamed.

The struggle beckoned hasty footfalls. Emma and David came to a grounding halt inside the small cabin Killian furnished into a Medcenter. The tight quarters only allowed for some supply cabinets and two bunks fitted into an alcove.

Killian withdrew once Emma arrived. She kneeled at Regina’s bedside, shushing her down and trying to restrain the flying limbs.

“Regina, stop! You’re going to hurt yourself!”

Hands continued to thrash in Emma’s gentle vice. A line formed between Emma’s brows. Seeing Regina so carnal and terrified like this affected her more than it should. Anyone might say the captain was safe and sound now, but knowing Regina Emma couldn’t overlook the repercussions. She couldn’t take seeing this vulnerability and ignore the protective nature stirring in her chest.

Emma smoothed her thumbs over the throbbing pulses at Regina’s wrists. “It’s me,” she said, her voice thick with care. “It’s Emma.”

The shouts died to whimpers. A soothing voice accompanied by careful strokes carried Regina on a gentle slope from wide-eyed alarm to quiet suspicion.

“Emma?” Regina blinked, hands stilling. Suddenly, as though a ray of light peeking through a smog-filled sky, a caress arose from the pain. Her fingers twitched, curling around those of a callused yet tender kind. “Emma,” she murmured happily.

The sound of her name was music to Emma’s ears. She had never heard her name being called like that, never filled with such relief. She wouldn’t want it sounding like that from anyone else’s lips. With the steadily comprehending eyes fluttering open and a reverent call from pale lips, Emma became entranced. Her eyes misted. She would never forget the feeling of release in this moment. It was relief personified.

“Where am I?” croaked Regina. “And who was that heathen and what are his intentions?”

Coming back to her senses, Emma dried her eyes and chuckled a reply. “That’s Killian. He helped us rescue you.”

“Us?”

David waved. “Hey there, Commander. It’s good to see you doing well. Erhm, that is… as well as can be expected.”

“How come I am not surprised that you joined in Miss Swan’s little operation?”

“Because I gave her little choice in the matter,” quipped David with a half grin.

Emma turned to Regina, adding, “He was actually an asset this time. You should probably see that he goes on more assignments.”

“That will be the day.” Regina gave a roll of her eyes despite the ache in doing so. Then, a sense of duty cropped up on her and she raised an eyebrow. “You may have taken on the role of acting captain for a short time, but I tremble to think what mayhem you’ve caused during my predicament.”

Just as important, though left unsaid, Regina could only hope that Emma conducted herself according to her expectations while she was away. If her second-in-command let her down Regina might actually admit to burning disappointment.

Emma had a sneaking suspicion that any response would be met with a half-hearted retort. She shrugged, smirking. “It had its moments.”

Regina stared her down a moment before looking away. Her jaw hurt suppressing so wide a grin. “I work with a gang of star chasers.”

“Not me,” piped up Killian. “I like to think of myself as a realist.”

Though the stranger hadn’t escaped her notice, Regina now gave him her full attention. Narrowing her eyes, she asked, “And just what do you do, Mr…?”

“Jones, but friends call my Killian. And I’m glad you asked. More often than not I find myself in a quandary over the many superfluous taxes and bylaws of trading. Like many in my line of work, I’ve taken it upon myself to –“

“Killian’s a business owner,” Emma interjected brightly – perhaps too brightly as Regina peered cautiously. “He… owns a legitimate, aaah, business.”

“Oh? What business is that?”

David coughed into his hand, looking away.

Killian frowned. “Um, I… work… in…”

“Smuggling?” Regina helped out. She fashioned a stale smile.

Emma’s jaw dropped. “How did you know?”

“It astounds me that you still doubt my capabilities, dear. I can tell when you are lying to me.” She took a moment to bathe in the storm clouds hanging over the poor woman’s head. Really, how clever did Emma think she was?

“However, your transparency isn’t being debated now.” Regina soon took on a stormy appearance herself, but with the added thunder and indignation Emma lacked.  “Just what were you thinking employing a pirate of all the beings in the galaxy to run a mission? But you couldn’t leave it at that; you had to drag along a senior member of our crew. And how could you have abandoned the _Storybrooke_?” In a huff, she threw up her hands, oblivious to the lingering ache and the IV attached to her arm. “I don’t know what in seven hells is going on and it infuriates me! Where is my crew? I wouldn’t know. My first officer left them gods knows where! They could be stranded in a hostile star system for all I know! And all because you thought it’d be a stellar idea to shuck protocol out of the airlock and come back for me!”

The tirade succeeded in clicking Emma’s teeth shut. She scratched the back of her neck, recoiling like a kicked puppy.

There was not a sympathetic bone in Regina’s body at that point. She brandished a finger, using a tone as sharp as a diamond. “If you _ever_ do that again I will come back and strangle you in your sleep. Dead or alive I will throttle you for your stupidity.”

Next in line was Killian whom Regina wielded flaming eyes upon “And what were you thinking standing over an unconscious woman? Are you asking for a blaster bolt between the eyes?”

“You didn’t look armed.”

“You didn’t search me. And if you had you would be nursing a dislocated shoulder right now.”

Cocky as the smile he flashed, Killian folded his arms and countered, “From where I’m standing you don’t look to be in any shape to do much damage.”

Regina’s eyes flashed. “Listen here, _pirate_ –“

“Alright, that’s it.” Emma cut off the argument with a slicing motion of her hand. “Killian may be a pirate, but he’s my friend. If you don’t trust him, fine. But trust me. He means you no harm. He was just checking your IV. You’re really dehydrated and still recuperating from your ordeal on Quarthos.”

Regina read the lines on Emma’s face. Whenever this woman spoke with conviction Regina knew to look for the hard lines around her mouth and across her forehead. Her eyebrows would soar up, pleading for a little tolerance. She verified Emma’s steadfast loyalty in Killian and conceded that it was enough.

Emma stood abruptly and shooed David and Killian out. “I think it’s time to give Her Majesty some much needed rest.”

The two men were content to leave the tight quarters. Emma watched them exit, feeling the pair of eyes burning into her back

Regina pursed her lips and stared at the loose thread of her blanket. “If the pirate is who you say he is, I will tolerate his presence.” The stiffness in her shoulders abated. She laid back into the pillow, adjusting the adhesive holding her IV in place and straightening the linens. When her sickbed was impeccable she sighed and tipped her head, asking, “Now would you care to enlighten me on where we are and how long I’ve been out?”

“We’re on Killian’s ship and headed for Earth. You’ve been drifting in and out of consciousness for a few hours.”

Regina’s not even sure why she asked. When your limits had been pushed to their breaking point, things like time and place held little meaning. It felt a lot longer than a few hours to her. She could remember only slivers of her time in captivity – certain voices and sounds, the pressure of a needle, bone rattling pain. By the time Emma came back for her the interrogation had already taken its toll. She had been badly injured and emotionally fragile. Of the snippets she retained, she could recall Emma’s fury at how she had been treated, not just hear the shouts but _feel_ her anger. Her heart beat raving mad alongside Emma’s. Colors of red filled Regina’s mind at the time. It could have been a symptom of the drugs surging through her system. It could have meant anything, but at the time she associated the explosive colors with Emma’s emotional state. Gods, she had been _so_ furious.

They could discuss her interrogation and Emma’s rescue operation till they were blue in the face. But how could they not comprehend everything that happened in between? The memories that helped Regina persevere, the motivations for rescue … it all had to be worth mentioning at least.

“Is there anything else you would like to add?”

Emma’s eyes tore from the floor and widened a bit as they met Regina’s. Her lips opened but nothing came. It was as if she had been caught with her hand in another ion engine.

“A lot has happened in the past 48-hours,” Emma finally replied. She stuffed her hands in her pockets and shrugged. Her lips locked into a thin line, uncertain or unwilling to explain further.

Regina’s eyes narrowed, challenging. She hummed, not entirely satisfied with Emma’s reply but filed away her curiosity for later.

“What do you remember?” Emma asked without warning. Her head had turned to the side and there was a furrow to her brow. “I mean, what do you remember about the interrogation? Anderson asked you some questions.”

Staring off to the side, Regina strained to piece together the fractured events. “Anderson… yes, he told me things. After I was captured he sent a Raider ship off-planet – to fool the _Storybrooke_ I would assume. The decoy ensured Anderson the time to question me.”

“What did he want? Fleet intel? Contingency plans? Top secret weapons technology? Anything like that?”

“No, none of it.” Regina met Emma’s shocked look. “I was surprised, too.”

“Well, I know I was a subject of conversation. I just assumed he would have wanted some military secrets as well.”

“You _knew_ he asked me about you? How?”

“Anderson was very forthcoming.” Emma fought against rolling her eyes. “In some respects I wish he hadn’t been. I think I got more than I bargained for.”

“What do you mean?”

Emma shook her head. “Later. So what exactly did he want to know about me? My favorite color? What speeder I drive?”

“If he had asked those questions he would have been disappointed. I haven’t a clue what your favorite color is. I do not engage in frivolous topics of that sort, Miss Swan.”

Emma’s eyes shot up as she mumbled, “Sounds like you’re returning to your old self.” Because really, what did she expect? That Regina wouldn’t flip from this soft, receptive person back to _Every Humanoid Is Beneath Me_ Captain Mills?

“Honestly…” Regina’s voice drifted off. Her head dropped as she searched the blanket’s fabric in vain. She frowned and said, “The injuries I’ve sustained are… It’s as if those hours I spent there are frozen in time. I-I just can’t remember.”

“It’s alright, Regina.”

“Anderson was very determined, I know that. He didn’t hurt me. He just asked me… He wanted to know how subversive you would be against the Commonwealth. I doubt his main goal included my punishment. Anderson himself didn’t seem concerned with my reputation with Raiders. Although considering the state of things I should think there are plenty of people who seek their own brand of justice.” Regina’s stare floundered and her voice faded with, “Perhaps rightfully so.”

Emma’s fists clenched from within her pockets. No, she thought. Nothing about what the Raiders did to Regina was right. They beat her half to death and zapped her with who knows how many volts. Emma’s once confident, perceptive, stun-blasteringly beautiful commander now lay thwarted and as pale as a Khione winter. Nothing about it looked or felt right. How dare Regina excuse those creeps? What in seven hells was wrong with her?

Emma’s face took on a volatile shade of red as she put all her effort into suppressing an outburst. She couldn’t get into that right now any more than she could question her right to be angry.

“There is so much to sort out.” Regina brought her hand up to her face, rubbing at the fatigue. “Sidney was working for the Raiders the whole time. There are, no doubt, many more spies like him. And the Quarthens, they are probably working against the whole fleet now that the Raiders have a foothold. Do you realize what this means? They could do the same to any planet. Any price, I’m sure they can afford it. With Quarthos’ support the Raiders can buy more spies. They can align themselves with corporations and private military manufacturers. They will travel from planet to planet, gaining strength until they end with Earth.”

“It’s overwhelming,” Emma agreed. She gave a lopsided smile as if to reassure Regina that she didn’t have to carry all of this herself.

“And then there is you.”

“See, here I thought I was worth top billing, not dead last.”

“Do not get glib with me. I have been kidnapped, questioned, and have experienced unnecessary duress. I’d like to know why.”

That’s when Emma came clean. She couldn’t look into those pleading, confused eyes and lie. In all their timing working together, she knew better. So she told Regina everything from her meeting with Anderson – the prophecy, her supposed part as Chosen One, Cora’s manipulations, their government’s treachery, the whole truth and nothing but.

“Well,” Regina sighed, unable to come up with a better response.

It proved exhausting just trying to grasp the story’s significance. Emma, a prophesized hero? It was quite out of the realm of possibility and far exceeded her expectations of the woman. While Regina thought of Emma as an open-hearted fool and part-time thrill chaser, she never actually considered there to be any divine qualities running through her. Emma wasn’t the glory grabbing type. In fact, she went out of her way to hide from celebrity and recognition.

Still, Regina couldn’t shake the thought that diving into peril to save an entire galaxy seemed like an ordinary task for Emma. She wouldn’t think twice about giving her life for someone; she did it for Regina, why not billions of sentients? It would be so like Emma to throw her inhibitions to the solar winds and trade her life for another’s. It was so _Emma_ Regina could hardly admit it to herself.

But prophecies were clouded with uncertainty and persons associated with them were most likely at risk for some heroic yet necessary downfall. To Regina, ‘Chosen One’ meant ‘sacrificial lamb,’ and she would be damned before she lost one of her own to a blasted _prediction_.

“That is quite the image to live up to, Miss Swan. You should be more careful when signing up for point-of-no-return causes.”

“Who said I was signing up for anything?”

Regina did not expect that. Her head jerked back on her neck as she tried to comprehend the claim. “You mean to say Anderson’s belief in a chosen one has no sway over you?”

“Regina,” Emma gave a laugh, “there’s no proof. They can’t even show me the pages on which their stupid prophecy originated from. You actually think I would throw my lot in with Anderson and his merry band of oracles? They’re Freedom Raiders!” she exclaimed, waving her arm. “A cute tale from some redemption seeking terrorists isn’t going to make me forget what they did to Henry, or to you.”

Regina patted the air, calling for Emma to compose herself. “I only meant to inquire after any undue influence exerted upon you. Anderson wanted to deliver a message and he succeeded by using underhanded and illegal means. Our initial assignment on Quarthos failed because I did not react quickly enough to Sidney’s betrayal. I didn’t see the signs, and three of my crew were killed because I did not respond as I should have. You may not believe everything he told you, but for all intents and purposes his plans to lure you were successful.”

“It’s nothing I couldn’t handle. You forget: I dealt with quite a few mistrustful characters in my time. What?” Emma frowned at the shadow eclipsing Regina’s face like a veil. Something was dawning on her, and not in a good way. Concern thickened Emma’s tongue when she repeated, “What is it?”

“When he questioned me, there in that gray, empty room, he asked me about you.”

“Yeah, I think we established that part.”

Regina’s eyes panned up and locked on Emma’s. She shook her head profusely. “No, he was asking me about your whereabouts. Not just your location at that time, but… Earth. He asked me where you live planetside, where you go, what places you frequent…”

“Why would he assume you know that stuff?”

“I wouldn’t, but I’m your commanding officer, so I should know these things.”

Emma snorted. “Not blasted likely – or fair.”

“But I _do_ know where you live on Earth,” Regina countered, frustration carving lines in her forehead. She was trying to remember what had transpired in that room with Anderson. She was using up so much energy to do so that it made her dizzy. “I-I could have told him, don’t you see? I could have given him everything I knew.” She swept a hand through her hair, squinting off to the side. “Now I’m not so sure he was entirely passive in his questioning. He could have very well used tools that left no traces. There are mind-altering drugs, truth serums, substances that depress the central nervous system and interfere with judgment and higher cognitive function…”

The babbling grew more nonsensical by the second. Her eyes were cavernous and widening to the list of barbiturates and damning errors. She was terrifying Emma as much as she was herself. Anyone in Regina’s position was liable to fly off the handle and talk themselves into a bundle of self-criticism. Emma just didn’t think it would happen to her commander. Regina always seemed so sure of herself, so immune from harm both physical and emotional. And yet here she was, battered and defeated, leaving Emma to watch her descent into blame.

Soon Regina became angry. Her fists bunched in her lap and her jaw muscles tensed. How could she be so weak? Why couldn’t the memories just come back? “I… I can’t…” Regina’s face fell until it looked utterly wracked in frustration.

“Whoa,” Emma closed in and sat on the edge of the bunk, “hey, don’t strain yourself there. I was just wondering. If you don’t remember, that’s okay.”

“I don’t know what I was saying. I don’t remember much.” Her head lifted to reveal glassy eyes and a trembling chin. “I’m so sorry. Emma –“ Regina shook her head, wincing inwardly as if to scold herself for so many things. “If I said something, something that would hurt the crew or – or Henry… Oh, I can’t remember!”

Regina’s head fell into her hands. It continued to shake from side to side, doubting herself. The painful shocks clouded her judgment. She couldn’t know what she told Anderson or even the two guards that inflicted such torture.

“Hey,” Emma soothed, trying to get the woeful eyes to meet hers. “I know you wouldn’t give them Henry. He’s safe.”

“How do you know?“

“The minute we left Quarthos’ orbit I contacted August. Last we talked he and Henry were ransacking my secret candy stash.” Emma’s grin widened in the light of the curve of Regina’s mouth. But it didn’t last. The thought of Henry and how far out of reach he was to both of them had the moment of joy crumbling. “Regina, you’re stronger than you think of yourself right now. I know you’d die before they got him out of you.”

“I am truly sorry if I –“

“You didn’t,” Emma asserted firmly. Instinctively, she grabbed Regina’s hand and squeezed for emphasis. “You didn’t.”

She nodded, tired and spent. “I think I’d like to rest now.” Her head tilted back and rested against the pillow.

“Yeah,” Emma was left to stare at her empty hand, to close her fingers around a vacancy, and depart from its brief and receding acquaintance. “Yeah, you should get some rest.”

Emma stood and let her be. She exited the medbay but there were not many places to go on the small craft. The _Jolly Roger_ only had room for two cabins and the cockpit, and she didn’t feel like intruding on Killian and David nor waiting it out in the cramped ‘conference room.’

Shuffling to a halt, Emma fell back against the corridor wall and slid down. She hugged her knees, staring at a vague spot on the bulkhead.

Regina was right about one thing: so much had happened and all of it begged to be processed. A lot had changed since Emma decided to return to Cosmofleet. She really did not expect to be where she was now. She was supposed to be with her son on Earth, working a back breaking, thankless job as a mechanic. She wasn’t supposed to see Regina Mills again or make excuses or look at her one way and feel for her an entirely other way. She was expected to excel as first officer, not take her captain’s place and be asked to go on as usual. She wasn’t supposed to have a future prophesized to save the destitute and the downtrodden. Gods, did she not sign up for shit like that.

There were people out there in the universe, admirers and believers, who would sacrifice themselves for Emma, a stranger. They expected her to save them when she couldn’t save herself. Whether or not the prophecy was true, there were people who believed in it. The foretold hero may be an elaborate fantasy, but hopes and dreams were as real as durasteel. 

Emma choked back a sob and brushed at the tear scrambling down her cheek. She let her head fall back against the wall with a thud. Squeezing her eyes shut, she banged it several more times until her skull throbbed. If Emma thought she was burdened with responsibilities before, she was floundering in them now.

She didn’t have the mettle to sort all that out. All Emma could handle was the task of returning her captain home and getting her the best medical treatment Earth afforded.

Not much time had passed since Emma’s pseudo panic attack when the sound of a voice carried. Whimpers and pained moans came from Medbay. It didn’t seem likely that the captain talked in her sleep, but these were despairing times. No one would have expected Regina to endure what she did and sleep undisturbed. The nightmares were inevitable.

Emma heard them like a dreadful breeze creeping up on her. The logical part of her urged her to stay put. It wasn’t her place, professionally or personally. Regina wouldn’t want her to like she didn’t want her standing up for her in front of a mutinous crew or making promises she couldn’t keep or undermining her authority in the line of duty.

But an ever growing part of her was in disagreement. It overwhelmed logic and common sense. It strengthened her, inside and out, bringing her to her feet and dragging her to the source of the echoes. Those sounds, that voice, wounded something so deep in Emma she couldn’t reach in and fix it like she could the myriad components of a burnt out hyperdrive. She could only confront what it brought her to.

Regina was a small, sickly figure in a sea of twisted blankets. Her head tossed and turned, her brow wrinkled, and her ashen lips fell open to admissions.

“I didn’t listen to you,” she mumbled. Her head sagged to the side. “Mother… you were right… this… whole… time…”

It was heartbreaking to see her like this. Regina had been proving herself a startling image of defeat. It was as if all her anxieties, regrets, and past horrors were turned inside out and displayed on her body like tattoos. It exhibited in her expressions as it did falling from her lips.

“… I’ll do better… _please_ …”

Emma couldn’t bring herself to cross the threshold of the cabin. She hoped it would be enough. It had to be better than listening from the corridor and thinking the worst. She stayed there because she wanted to, because maybe her presence kept the monsters and manipulative mothers at bay.

* * *

_The house had been in the family for generations, but when Regina burst through the door adorned by a brass plated ‘108’ she paid little mind to its temperamental hinges. The lock clicked shut from behind, loudly enough to rouse any and all in the house. The foyer chandelier cast down its golden light, chasing away the evening shadows. Everything looked as it had when she last saw it: varnished hard wood floors, a lavish yet unused dining room, holophotos of many exotic and rare places of interest from Cora’s days as an ambassador, and the spotless mirror above an always present vase of Easter lilies._

_The air smelled of mahogany and perfection. The sight of such splendorous wealth caused Regina to pause. She set her bags down next to the closet. She swallowed, bringing her hands to clasp in front of her. All thoughts of a warm welcome vanished from her mind as she tempered her enthusiasm. Running and yipping boisterously through the manor was not decorous behavior. She knew better than that, so she padded silently throughout the house in search for her mother and father._

_Henry visited her a few weeks before the end of the semester to wish her luck on exams and to pass along her mother’s regards. They were so looking forward to receiving her on her first summer break from academy. Regina herself couldn’t wait another minute to regale them of her first year. She was particularly excited to see her mother whom she hadn’t seen since moving out of the house and into her dorm room. Throughout her first year they shared maybe a handful of correspondences, every one concerning her studies or Cora’s intergalactic trips. Her mother may be retired, but the office chair never boded well with her before she was jetting off to involve herself in the first private venture that came along._

_In recent months Regina neglected to check in with Cora due to end-of-the-year exams. She feared her mother might be angry with her, but hoped a long time servant of Cosmofleet would understand. Every new cadet learned that if you couldn’t tough out the first year you weren’t made of the kind of substance the fleet employed. Regina herself managed to see herself through the hoops her instructors made her jump through with little difficulty._

_Regina went from room to room, eyes searching wildly, and trying in vain to subdue her excitement. While her father had always listened to her rants about the academy, he could never fully understand the pressures and rewards of training under Cosmofleet. Henry didn’t graduate from a prestigious academy like his wife and daughter, but instead taxied his way through the galaxy, shaking hands and getting his knees dirty. He earned respect the old fashioned way. Cora on the other hand knew full well the day in and day out life of a cadet. Her parents were diplomats, and their parents, too, so it was her duty to pass on the ‘Cosmofleet brat’ torch to her daughter. Regina never felt any less fortunate to have been brought up by parents with opposing backgrounds. Cora’s understanding and unlimited advice helped her into academy and would surely see her through to graduation. And yet Henry offered what her mother couldn’t: presence, affection, silly hologames, and his love of horses._

_Regina was bursting at the seams to tell Cora about her first year – her independent research (which only junior years began working on), the professors, every achievement in the sim and in the classroom, everything. But as Regina traveled through every room of her home Cora wasn’t to be found. She was crushed. Her devastation lasted only as long as it took her father to come home._

_Henry tried to hide his delight upon seeing his daughter, but once the door closed behind him he lost all composure. “Welcome home, dear heart,” he said with tears in his eyes and caught her in a bruising hug._

_They continued to beam at each other through the evening. They held supper in the sorely underused dining room like it was a grand celebration. Of course to Henry, any day his only child comes home to him is a day worth celebrating. Regina couldn’t be happier, and soon all thoughts of Cora disappeared._

_Despite having lived on her own, Regina did not miss being doted on. Independence and self-reliance were traits drilled into her at an early age by her mother. Although it wasn’t typical for her, she allowed her father the joy of waiting on her hand and foot. It made him beyond ecstatic to have her around the lonely, spacious manor and be able to do things for her as if nothing had changed. He cooked her favorite dish, pulled out her chair at the dining table, and served her like a maître d’ from a five star restaurant. His persistence was legendary. Regina couldn’t thwart his efforts even if she tried._

_But she could not play along forever. She missed her father dearly and wanted to do things for him. He raised her for eighteen years and persisted on taking care of her, but Regina wanted to return the favor. And he wasn’t getting any younger._

_It bothered her sometimes to see his age showing. The lines on his face were deeper, his hands suffered from tremors, and he was thinner and looked to be losing bone mass. That night in particular he seemed to have aged ten years since they last saw one another. Despite her concern, the coughing fits were explained as a new social downside and waved off as inconsequential. Thank the gods he hadn’t lost his hearing otherwise Regina would have had a fit. She just couldn’t accept these changes, no matter how natural a doctor claimed them to be. In her mind, Henry would always be that spry, sharp man riding horses and chasing her around the house with thick, windblown black hair._

_Although Cora wasn’t present to hear all of Regina’s accomplishments, she was thrilled to catch her father up on the events of that past year. They talked, laughed, and reminisced over a superbly cooked roast with sofrito, olives, and tomatoes. Henry even popped open a bottle of wine he supposedly set aside for this occasion._

_“Been seeing a nice boy lately?”_

_“Daddy,” Regina chided lightly, “I am_ much _too busy for that kind of thing.”_

_“Well, don’t work too hard. It would be nice to see a Mills settle down for a change.”_

_“Nonsense, you’ve settled down.”_

_He chuckled. “It took long enough.”_

_Regina side eyed him teasingly before clearing the dishes and setting her father up with his usual after dinner coffee. He was stirring milk into his cup when she came up from behind and wrapped her arms around his neck. She smiled, kissed his wiry gray-haired temple, and said, “Missed you.”_

_He patted the arms encasing him as they used to when she was a child, turned up his head to return the kiss, and replied, “Missed you.”_

_Days would pass before Cora came home. It was summer break and Regina wished to enjoy a nice jaunt through her childhood neighborhood. But when she opened the front door with a smile on her face she found it hard to conceal her disappointment. Cora stood on the doorstep with suitcase in hand and looked every bit a guest at the inn._

_Her mother was not just a mystery of the universe but a mystery of Regina’s life. Since retiring, Cora rarely spent more than a few weeks at the manor before she had to go off-planet. She never went into the details of her work. She divided her time between various organizations and causes for preserving democracy across the galaxy. Wealth loved Cora and her seemingly generous ways. Her associations over the years as an Earth ambassador afforded her the opportunities only discharged servants dreamed of. She worked with rich benefactors and retired fleet officers and politicians like herself to pick up where public institutions left off._

_Regina stopped asking about her mother’s curious dealings because it always seemed like Cora dreaded coming back to Earth. Watching her unpack the bare essentials proved a morose business. It was like Cora was going through the motions, returning “home,” kissing the cheek of a man she barely thought of three times out of the year, and smiling like they were all family._

_Regina was sitting proper on the master bed with hands clutched, white-knuckled, in her lap. She smiled tentatively. “I was hoping to see you a little earlier. My break started over a week ago.”_

_“There was urgent business on Tume that required my attention.”_

_“I’m sure they could have done without you for a few days,” Regina teased, crinkles at the corners of her eyes. “I hear Old Rome wasn’t built in a day.”_

_Cora’s puttering in the walk in closet ceased. She pursed her lips and shot her daughter a look that said_ volumes _._

_Regina’s head ducked down, shrinking under several G’s of reprimand. She only meant it as a compliment. Cora may be over secretive, but Regina understood there was a reason for it. Important work must be protected and nurtured from prying eyes._

_She worried at the inside of her cheek and frantically searched the carpet for a place to focus her anxiety._

_Cora proceeded to treat her like she hadn’t been away for an entire year. Despite the pride blossoming in Regina’s heart, she wasn’t given the chance to regale her mother on all that happened at academy. Cora brushed off her daughter’s attempts like debris rolling off a deflector shield. Sadly, it occurred to Regina that that was exactly what Cora thought of her. What she ranked as important in her life, her mother thought was space garbage._

_Cora’s unpacking had been a silent affair peppered with brief work anecdotes and polite, one to two word remarks from Regina. After sufficiently organizing her closet, she came out and addressed her daughter with a note of gravity._

_“I have something to tell you, dear. Your father is sick.”_

_Regina blinked at the swiftness of the message. “Pardon?”_

_“That underdeveloped, immigrant world we all visited during my last year as ambassador…”_

_“Aethon,” Regina supplied vacantly._

_“Yes, Aethon,” she pronounced with contempt and rolling eyes. “Henry contracted something on Aethon – a parasitic disease of some sort or another. It went undetected until he caught fever. The doctor diagnosed him.”_

_Regina’s mouth opened, straining to form words. Her mind sifted through the multitude of questions popping up. She couldn’t come up with a coherent thought much less a sentence. “H-how…?”_

_“How long he’s known? Or how long he has left?”_

_Regina practically choked. Her face took on a vibrant shade of purple as it looked like she was being strangled. She shook her head, eyes filling up. “Both,” she coughed out, dismayed by the universe._

_“His symptoms arose last year, not long after you were accepted to the academy.”_

_“You knew?_ He _knew? And neither of you thought to tell me?”_

_“Your father and I decided that it was more important for you to focus on school. It would do no good to worry about outside influences. It would have been a distraction.”_

_“A distraction?!” Regina exclaimed. “My father and his health are not a distraction!”_

_“Contain yourself, Regina. You are not the only one suffering.”_

_She thinned her lips around a retort._

_“He does not have much time.” Cora spotted a bit of lint on her robes and flicked it away with a lazy swipe of hand. “A year if he’s fortunate.”_

_A heavy weight plummeted in Regina’s stomach. She felt queasy and not at all present in the moment. Her horrified eyes could not tear themselves away from the indifference staring back at her. “I could have taken time off,” she said, weakly. Her throat bobbed. She scrambled to get a handle on her emotions so she didn’t fall apart right before her mother. Anything like crying, sniffling, and pleading fell under the category ‘undignified’ and would be met with sneering. “I could have spent more time with him.”_

_Cora inflicted a pointed look Regina learned since childhood to heel before. “You, child, have a career to think about. Do not forget what I have done to get you into the most prestigious academy. You have better things to do than care for an invalid.”_

_Shooting up from the bed, Regina clenched her hands and thrashed them down like a petulant child. “He is_ not _an invalid! He is my father!”_

_“You have a responsibility to complete school. When you graduate and get a job, then you can spend your time however you wish and care for whomever you want. Until then you think, eat, and sleep on Presidio grounds.” Cora turned her chin up, folding her arms over her chest and declared, “In fact, there is plenty for you to do at the academy. You can cut your visit home short this year.”_

_“But it’s summer break. I wanted to see my friends!”_

_“What friends?” scoffed Cora. She turned away to sit at her vanity. Her long, dexterous fingers touched her hair up as she talked. “Do not tell me you latch onto those despicable, off-worlders. You spend a few days with them and mistakenly call them_ friends _. They probably don’t even remember you. Those foreigners think you are a politician’s daughter who felt sorry for them. You chat with them and trade stories and then leave.”_

_“I had no choice! Your assignments only last for so long before I was forced to depart with you!”_

_Cora splayed her hands on the dresser, glaring at Regina through the mirror. “This is not up for discussion. You are going back to academy.”_

_“I’m staying with Daddy,” she declared firmly. Her hands shook at her sides. “He needs me.”_

_“No. I’ve contacted your professors. They have your second year lesson plans prepared. You are getting an early start on the others. Before you know it you will be graduating a whole year ahead of everyone.”_

_“But I just finished my first year! I’m exhausted, Mother. I want to enjoy a few days without studying. I deserve it after how hard I worked.”_

_Cora twisted on her chair. Her face was painted with uncharacteristic dismay. She touched her chest and caved to a frown. “Don’t you want to break barriers, Regina? Don’t you want to excel? You will graduate at the top of your class and become the first female captain in Cosmofleet history! Don’t you want to be remembered? Admired?”_

_Her time spent in the zero-g sim, with its vertigo and breathtaking punch to the solar plexus, was nothing compared to what Regina was experiencing now. A pressure laid into her as she heaved against it. The power didn’t have an origin or a name. She couldn’t repel it. She had no choice. She never did._

_Compliant as a diplomat’s daughter ought to be, Regina clicked her teeth and raised her chin. She narrowed her eyes until they pierced like the icicles on Khione. Her posture changed; she sucked in her stomach, threw back her shoulders, and held herself up with due dignity. She had perfected her mother’s façade in all its dogmatic malarkey. She had mirrored the necessary detachment her mother had stared her in the face with since birth. Regina hadn’t seen Cora any other way._

_“That’s what you want, Mother. If I accomplish all those things – graduate early, blast the status quo, become a model to every little girl who ever wanted to be a pilot – then I will. But I do it all knowing you couldn’t. It will be everything you never could do.”_

_Regina withdrew before Cora could respond. She packed her bags as fast as humanoidly possible. Her heart nearly beat out of her chest as she struggled to compose herself a little longer. Just hold on, she thought. Not here. Not in front of her and definitely not in front of him. By the time she had caught a hovercab Regina’s eyes were no longer dry as the Tume desert. And she could hardly breathe._

_She was too angry to bid her father goodbye. Every fiber of her being wished to gather his withering body into a hug and promise him many more years of life, love, and silly hologames. She shed tears, imagining herself turning back towards Mifflin Street and admitting to him how sorry she was for not comprehending his illness sooner. She had an image in her mind of all the meals she’d cook with Henry, the conversations they’d have, the plans they made for the future, and the grandchildren he’d spoil from Earth to Outer Reaches. She dreamed of that wily smile, the gentle feel of his kiss on her forehead, and the lifetime of love and lessons in forgiveness. What Regina did not realize during that hovercab trip back to campus was that those dreams would always be that – dreams._

_Henry passed away three months later when Regina was scoring the highest sim marks in academy history. She was only 21._

* * *

Regina woke with a start. The machine still continued its methodical beeps, her hospital room door remained closed, and the blankets were just as uncomfortably heavy as when she last woke up in them.

Command gave her leave due to the extensive injuries she suffered. She was actually given a direct order to take time off because the admirals were familiar with her dogged attachment to the job. As much as she hated lying around doing nothing, Regina had adequate time to rest and recuperate. She couldn’t very well resume her duties and go on protecting the Commonwealth while enduring chronic pain.

The electric shocks left her weak and susceptible to diseases. Her immune system had taken quite a hit, so the doctors had her hooked up to drips and pumped full with vitamins. The symptoms were nothing long-term nor incapable of healing over a course of low stress activity. She was lucky not to have sustained any brain or nerve damage.

Command seemed more concerned with her condition than they did with her report. The admirals had already been briefed by Ruby Lucas when the _Storybrooke_ docked in Earth’s orbit, as instructed by acting Captain Swan. In an official log, Regina outlined the events on Quarthos including Sidney’s defection, the deaths of Valdez, Clarke, and Valentino, and her capture by Freedom Raiders. She did not include Anderson’s interest in Emma or the Chosen One prophesized to bring down the Commonwealth.

Her memory was still fuzzy, but with plenty of rest Regina began to see more clearly. Things were returning – feelings mostly. She remembered the hope draining from her like her minutes of life were being stolen after each jolt of current. Regina had given up hope that the _Storybrooke_ would ever mount a rescue. Even if they wanted to they had limited evidence to locate her whereabouts. The ‘what ifs’ took a monumental hit to her already dwindling confidence. At her core, she had believed in the Commonwealth, humanity, even her first officer when she wasn’t being a klutz around the ship’s fusion reactor.

But when your body was being pummeled by deadly currents it had a tendency to screw with your head. Hope felt futile and fragile in her hands. Regina had been fooled and manipulated her entire life. Now the dying words on Cora’s lips made sense: the fleet, her government, and possibly her own crew had betrayed her. The lies ran rampant, coursing through her limbs and extremities like an incurable parasitic disease.

And yet the least likely person proved her mother wrong. The fleet and the Commonwealth may be liable for downfall, but certainly not her crew and certainly not her first officer. Emma came back for her against all odds and in the midst of stellar adversity. Although Regina might admit to herself that she wasn’t worth saving, it was nice to know there were people who had her back. If the galaxy went through seven hells in a capsule, she’d be lucky to have Emma and their crew by her side. If the Raiders instigated war with Earth and its constituent planets, she could count on the _Storybrooke_ to see them through a grand sunrise of victory.

“Oh, hey! You’re finally up!” Emma tossed aside the Popular Mechanics magazine she had been reading and sat up in the arm chair. “I was starting to think you wanted a cryogenic nap. Sorry, if you did. I can’t seem to take a hint.”

Regina frowned at the lopsided grin. She was still just waking up and the sight of another humanoid there was a bit rattling. Emma always had that effect on her for some reason and her being there succeeded in doubling her flustered state.

“Uh, how long have you been sitting there?” Regina scrubbed at her drowsiness and squinted through the brew of pain killers she was on.

Emma shrugged in such a way that did not seem altogether honest. “Not long.”

“Mm, and you are here because…?”

“I’m on leave, too.” She flashed a smile and went back to her magazine.

Regina hesitated. She tipped her head and demanded, “Why on Earth are _you_ on leave?”

“You’re not the only one who went through an ordeal.” Emma gave a huff and slouched back to prop her boots on the chair across from her. Her elbows laid on the arm rests as she supported the magazine up to her restful, serene face. “I had to sneak up on a Raider convoy, pull a Roger maneuver without them raising the alarms, and then storm a hostile craft to interrogate the captain.” She peered over the top of the magazine to shoot a manic look. “That’s hard work.”

“Yes, that sounds like very hard work. Dangerous, too. About as dangerous as suffering third degree burns and high voltage!”

“Cool your engines. You’re doing fine.”

“I was ordered to take time off! I never take time off!”

“Yeah, now I know why.”

Regina’s gaze turned icy. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s just… you’re such enjoyable company –“

“How dare –“

“ – when you’re knocked out from sedatives.”

“Oh.”

Emma smirked and went back to drooling over the sports class speeder centerfold.

They sat in companionable silence. A moment later Emma perked up and asked, “Hey, you think I should take Henry with me tomorrow to test drive this speeder bike?”

Regina didn’t have to look at the glossy magazine page being displayed to be warned of its lack of safety harness, its sharp steering mechanism, and its turbine jet engine. She bolted up in bed, eyes flashing disturbed. “Absolutely not! Are you insane?!”

“I’m joking, Regina.” Chuckling, Emma had to take the magazine out of arm’s reach so it wasn’t shredded to bits. “Don’t have a coronary.”

“Do you see me laughing?” Regina scoffed off to the side and tidied the blankets Emma’s “fun” had incited her to disrupt. “Shouldn’t you be with your son? He has hardly seen you since you were away on commission.”

Something flicked across Emma’s face. Regina couldn’t determine what, but she did notice the tendons in her jaw working.

“While I appreciate your concern,” Emma said, standing up, “there’s no need for it.”

Regina’s eyes followed her meandering pace around the room. There was something she’d wanted to say to Emma for some time now, but she couldn’t do so looking her in the eye. Instead, Regina focused on the hands stuffing themselves in tight blue jean pockets.

“I’m sorry, Emma.”

Emma stopped pacing and turned towards the voice that sounded uncharacteristically stripped of superiority. “Sorry for what?” she asked, eyebrows crinkling together.

She closed her eyes, shaking her head and biting her lip. “For leaving Henry. You resigned from your duties aboard the _Storybrooke_ , but that did not mean he retired as well. You may not have wanted my influence in his life, but I wouldn’t have known either way unless I tried speaking with you. But I didn’t keep the channels open. I severed all contact, thereby risking his well-being. I know I’m not a mother, but I do understand the fragile emotions of a little one and how an attachment, however improbable, can lead to dissolution if not treated with care.”

Regina’s exhale trembled more than she’d like. It should have hurt, the deep breaths rattling her feeble ribcage, but the pain of torture did not compare to the pain of having abandoned the sweet boy who had stolen her heart.

“My intentions were not to hurt Henry. I thought he would forget me and move on.”

Emma stared her down with an unreadable expression. “Clearly, you had that backwards.”

Regina nodded down to herself. She watched as her thumb nail bit grooves into the skin of her palm. “If I caused him pain, I am so very sorry for it.”

“Why are you telling _me_ this?”

“So you will pass on my apology to him.” She met Emma’s puzzlement with a pointed look. “I’m not an idiot, Miss Swan. I know you don’t trust me with him anymore. You have every reason to protect him from me,” she added, looking away through a vision of molten sorrow.

Emma was leaning against the wall, clutching at her elbows. She didn’t want it to be true. She _wanted_ to trust Regina. She just couldn’t tell half the time if Regina was punishing herself and giving up or truly disbelieving in her ability to care for a child. If the former, then she needed a lesson in how many times a foster parent screwed up before they threw in the towel. Emma had been placed with guardians less self-conscious than Regina and she could tell the difference between sacrifice and abandonment. If Regina had bailed out on Henry it was because she _thought_ it would benefit him.

If the latter… well, the hell with that. Emma had seen the captain with her son before. There was no doubt in her mind. The two of them were thick as thieves when she wasn’t around, sneaking extra helpings from the sugar group, singing loud obnoxious commercial songs, and spoiling each other with expensive toys (curtesy of the captain’s unlimited bank account). Really, if Regina was so neglectful it was because she limited that gorgeous voice to belting out cereal adverts.

“Henry is stopping by.”

Regina sat up, fully alert. “He’s what?”

“I mean, I thought you might like to see him. You were saying his name.”

“When?”

Emma’s mouth twisted. She shifted on her feet. “When you were semiconscious and under heavy medication.”

“Semiconscious and under heavy medication,” Regina echoed, head lolling sarcastically. “And you thought it would be a good idea to invite him here?” She swept the room, eyes looking frantically to the overly informative brochures on operative procedures, the ominous machine she was hooked up to, and the IV in her arm. Hospitals were scary places for adults; she couldn’t imagine how a child of six would react to all this. She shook her head and stated, “I do not want that. I do not want him seeing me like this.”

“Well, that’s a bummer. He was looking forward to seeing you.” Emma rose from her slouch and made to exit. “Do you want me to take him home?”

“No.”

Emma smirked. “Okay then.”

Regina gazed up with tentative expectation. “He’s here then?”

“He’s looking after the nurses and introducing them to all his toys he packed along.” Emma shook her head and shrugged like it was a lost cause. “I told him we’d only be here a few hours but he insisted on bringing his whole bedroom. I think he wants to move in with you.”

Regina smiled.

“You know…” Emma laughed inwardly, shaking her head. “Since I left two years ago Henry’s been pretty obsessed with you. To this day he spends his playtime watching holovids of your simulations. Honestly, I’d find it cute if it wasn’t so annoying. I thought it was just a phase. He’s been talking about entering the academy since I bought him that starship bed, but he hasn’t shaken the idea. He latches onto it with both hands like his dream of becoming a pilot are the handlebars that will steer him there.”

Regina joined in the amusement. Her cheeks warmed in flattery, and she found it hard not to take pleasure in the face-numbing smile she gleamed. “You should take pride in your son’s earnest pursuit. It says a great deal that he wants to follow in his mother’s footsteps.” Regina cocked her head and drolly added, “And it _is_ rather adorable.”

“Not when he’s watching sims on repeat. It’s unhealthy, isn’t it? I mean, a kid his age would rather watch cartoons over tactical holograms.” Emma let out a sigh, angling her eyes up and over. “Kid’s growing up way too fast.”

Regina grinned. “Do I sense a bit of panic in that sigh?”

“Am I not allowed to panic? My kid wants to leave me.”

“That’s years from now, dear. I think you have some time before he goes off to the academy.”

“Doesn’t feel like it,” Emma mumbled. She scuffed the toe of her boot at the glossy, sterile floor.

Just then the door to Regina’s room burst open and Henry flew in at break neck velocity. He panted like he’d just run a marathon and half leapt, half climbed onto the bed. For Regina, he was a sight for sore eyes and looking darling in his overstuffed green backpack. It was so crammed full it threatened his equilibrium and she steadied him so he wouldn’t tip over the bed.

The nurse, just as winded, lagged behind. “I’m sorry, miss,” she told Emma with wide, apologetic eyes. “He persisted.”

“Yeah, that’s sort of his thing. Thanks for watching him.”

The nurse exited with a nod and breathy smile.

Emma turned back to see Henry cross-legged in front of Regina. They were beaming at one another.

She jerked a thumb over her shoulder and said, “I’m going to grab lunch. I don’t trust hospital food.”

They still didn’t tear their eyes away. It was like Emma was the invisible woman. She shook her head at the duo, chuckling, and left them in peace.

Henry shrugged out of his backpack but it was so bulky he was having a rough go of it. Regina smiled and helped his shoulders out of the straps. When at last he was free, he unzipped it, stuck his nose in, and went about the furious search for a thing of unknown origin. Regina waited, her expression a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

At last, Henry came up for air and with him a stuffed animal. It was a polar bear the size of his head.

“Oh,” Regina gasped, taking the proffered toy. “Who is this?”

“It’s my Tosche. He’s a polar bear!”

“Tosche… that’s a funny name.”

“Yep. Momma and me got him at a toy store, Tosche Station. Momma says you got sick.”

He pushed the stuffed animal further into her arms. Regina took it that he meant her to have it as some sort of good luck charm. She narrowed her eyes playful and drawled, “She did, did she?”

He nodded. “When I get a tummy ache I give him hugs like this…” He plucked Tosche by the ear and enveloped his arms around it. “And I kiss him like this…” He smacked his lips square on the black nose. “And I feel all better!” He stuck his chin out and grinned until his eyes were slits.

“Hm, that’s sounds more useful than remaining in this awful old hospital bed.”

“Here,” he said, “you try!”

And before Regina knew it the polar bear was thrust in her face, the wet nose posed in submission. She laughed and gave it a peck. “Oh my,” she gasped, “that really does work! I feel much much better!”

He giggled, grabbing the toes of his sneakers. “It doesn’t happen that quick, silly! You gotta wait for it.”

“That’s slow magic.” She frowned down at the polar bear before addressing Henry impatiently, “What if I don’t want to wait?”

“You gotta,” he replied seriously.

Then, as if an idea had occurred to her, Regina’s eyebrows rose fantastically. “Well, what about _you_?” She tapped his crinkling nose. “That nose _has_ to contain special powers.” She gradually sneaked in, fingers crawling towards him teasingly. “Shall I try?”

“Ah!” he squealed, face split by a wide smile. His belly jiggled to his chortles as Regina tackled his face with kisses and nuzzles.

“See? All better!”

He cradled her face between his two small hands and peered at her closely. He looked from one sparkling eye to the other, appraising the crinkles at their corners and nearly getting blinded by the stars. After his assessment, he tipped his head and said, “You look okay.”

She scoffed, feigning crossness. “You have your mother’s tact.”

He nodded, not fully comprehending the word but otherwise looking quite pleased with himself. “I still think you should keep Tosche. Just for a little while because I _definitely_ want him back.” He made every effort to look her in the eye and get across how imperative “definitely” meant in that sentence.

“That’s sweet,” Regina said softly. “Thank you.”

Her fingers ran through the bear’s short fur, luxuriating in its softness. The toy was a bit more deflated than it looked and Regina reasoned that the cause lied with extensive cuddles. The stitching on the nose was a bit frayed from smooches. It had to be an exceptionally prized possession of his to carry so much wear and tear. Tosche carried Henry’s scent and his undying affection. Regina had never received anything like this before and it made her eyes gleam with appreciation.

“Henry,” she began slowly, mirth draining from her face. “I must tell you something and it is very important that you understand.”

 He scooted closer to her and waited with his chin in his palm.

Regina lingered on his innocent blue eyes before wetting her lips and taking a deep breath. “When your mother left the _Storybrooke_ , you did not get the chance to see me. In fact, we never managed to say goodbye. I don’t know what she told you about that day, but you should not be angry with her. It wasn’t her fault that you didn’t get to see me. That was my fault. I can’t imagine how you must have felt afterward. And I cannot explain why I didn’t come to visit. I don’t think there’s anything I can do but say I am sorry. You deserved better than that.”

Henry’s forehead creased to his confusion and Regina had to look away. With a trembling chin she asserted quietly, “You deserve better than me.”

“Momma said you was busy.”

Regina sniffled, not having the heart to correct his English. “Yes. Yes, I was busy. I command a starship,” she said as brightly as she could. Her usual winning smile didn’t meet its mark, but Henry didn’t seem to notice.

“You fly to many places? Lots of planets?”

Regina nodded, smiling. “Many places. Many planets. But when I was lightyears away in the furthest reaches of the galaxy you were not far from my thoughts. I’m so sorry for staying away as long as I did.”

Henry stared for a moment before his cheeks spread to a grin. “Okie dokie, Cap’n.”

Regina was taken aback by his forgiveness, so swift and genuine. She really didn’t think he would grasp the significance of her guilt, but then again she always did reveal quite a bit of herself to him (more than she’d like). That toothy smile of his could crumble walls and deactivate a deflector shield within seconds. He seemed to know her defenses better than she did, and when the time came to break them down he did so with such gentleness and warmth. By the time it was over he was smiling at her, saying “okie dokie,” and Regina had no thought to retaliate, just smile in return.

“Okie dokie?” she inquired with a poke to his tummy.

Henry giggled. “Okie dokie, like okay!”

Regina laughed at his spread arms and dramatic clarification. Only a child of Emma Swan’s, she thought.

“You know, you don’t have to call me ‘captain’ anymore, Henry.”

Henry looked horrified. “Are you not a captain anymore?”

She reassured him with a caress to his cheek. “No, I am. But only my crew calls me that.”

“I want to be a crew!”

“You want to be a member of my crew?” Regina asked, failing to suppress a wide, adoring grin.

“Yeah!”

“Oh, well sometimes being a part of the crew can be quite dull. You wouldn’t be able to have ice cream or bounce on the bed. And there are _so_ many rules. Wouldn’t you rather want to be friends? We already know each other well and I _definitely_ understand your need for ice cream,” she added with wide eyes. “Only friends get to call me Regina. What do you say?”

Henry contemplated with a deep frown before lighting up. He nodded, little dimples appearing in his cheeks. “Gina,” he said, testing it out.

“Regina,” she corrected with a dip of her head.

“Gina!”

What a persistent child. She laughed till her cheeks hurt. It wouldn’t have been possible before, but she’d endure smile-induced pain any day of the week. She smiled, stroking the backs of her fingers on his face. She leaned in so their noses brushed. She squinted, smiled, and said, “Okie dokie.”

Henry certainly got a kick out of that. Who knew a polished captain of the fleet said funny things like “okie dokie”? She even gave Tosche a peck on the nose!

His giggles persisted. Regina soon discovered over the next few minutes that Henry was a very ticklish thing. The blankets got twisted up in their squirming. They giggling in tune with tears in their eyes, and the struggle didn’t end until they were wrapped up together, arms tight around each other.

Regina sighed at the little bundle in her arms. The hug was exactly what she needed after unloading that raw, emotional apology. With his little heart beating next to hers, she thought things she never would have before. Things like… How could she ever love her starship and protect it like it was her baby when there was a baby in her arms right now and capable of returning that love? The _Storybrooke_ was cold durasteel that carried out her every order, but Henry was so warm and delightfully unpredictable and fueled with a seemingly boundless supply of energy. The feelings she had for her ship could never touch the magnitude of what she owned up to feeling for Henry.

Her eyes closed as she inhaled the shampoo from his hair and laid a kiss to his head. She couldn’t imagine a galaxy without him in it. If she held on much longer she wouldn’t ever be able to leave him again.

“Who wants some disgustingly awesome takeout?”

Emma walked in. The bags of takeout were overstuffed and collecting a soggy mass of grease at their bottoms. Epic silence cut off her next question, leaving Emma to stare at the spectacle.

Henry was nestled in Regina, one arm around her back and the other clutching Tosche (he may have lent it to her but the boy was terribly attached to the toy). Regina held him to her chest and was sending Emma a conflicted look. At first she thought it was directed towards the oily bags of lunch, but then it became clear who was meant as the target. Emma didn’t know if she was being melted to death by a glare for intruding on a private moment or blessed with teary-eyed gratitude.

Whether Emma intruded on a private moment or she was being thanked for bringing him, she smiled. Henry latched onto Regina like she was an accessory. When Emma thought about it Regina might actually take to _being_ a stuffed animal if it meant being closer to him.

She cleared her throat. “Bad time?”

Regina released him at once, but Emma noticed the hand flexing in the handful of his shirt. She kept him desperately near. “Lunch?”

Emma raised the bags and wiggled her eyebrows.

They ate their loaded burgers and french fries and Regina was not allowed to say anything about it. Truthfully, she had nothing to say against her hamburger because it tasted delicious. Greasy and visually unappealing, yes. Unpalatable? Not _entirely_. Emma specially ordered it with every vegetable the restaurant had at their disposal but all that lettuce and tomato did not hide the fact that a grilled patty lied smack in the middle. Regina snickered at the failed sleight of hand. Emma tried so hard to please her captain these days, so Regina simply turned a blind eye to the grease slicking her fingers and enjoyed her helping.

Ever the growing boy who always needed to be on the move, Henry expressed his need to play after lunch. Emma sent him off with a nurse to wreak havoc on the hospital’s outdoor playground.

The gray pallor once adorning Regina’s face had since vanished and been replaced with loveliness. A bit of rouge colored her cheeks and there were laugh lines parenthesizing her mouth. Her brown eyes were even softer and more alert than before.

“You feel any better?” Emma asked, eyebrows soaring expectantly.

Astonished at the change that had come over herself, Regina replied, “I do.”

Emma couldn’t hold back the smug grin any longer. “So our pint-sized visitor did have an effect on Her Majesty’s health, eh?”

Regina shot her a withering look. “Although I do not like being ambushed like that, I am not in any condition to berate you over your behavior. Were I stronger I would, but suffice it to say… do not pull that stunt again.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know how you like to be ‘appraised’ of a situation,” Emma said with air quotes.

“Nevertheless, I’m glad you brought him. Your meddling has, on occasion, had its uses.” Regina turned to hide her blush and added, “And it has cheered up more than one person today.”

Emma smiled and winked. “There is a method to my madness.”


	8. Chapter 8

For two long years Regina had no permanent residence on Earth. She sold her townhouse and swore never to return save for the occasional debriefs before Command. At the time, there was nothing and no one left for her on the planet.

That all changed after the incident on Quarthos. At Command’s behest, the _Storybrooke_ and its crew were grounded until further notice. This left Regina to consider her current living situation and find a temporary solution.

In all her impulsivity, Emma stepped forward to offer Regina a place to stay at the Swan apartment. It didn’t seem right to leave Regina with the only choice to check into a hotel. After all, they didn’t know how long they’d be kept on Earth. There still remained the matter of Quarthos and the threat against the Commonwealth.

Despite her distaste for hotels, Regina declined Emma’s offer. Instead of citing a reason she stressed the importance of the days ahead of them.

Cosmofleet Command and the government High Council were deliberating and had yet to make a decision regarding the Freedom Raiders. Regina did not like being left out of deliberations, seeing as she risked her life to bring back the vital intel. Emma wasn’t bummed due to her revulsion of politics.

Although Emma’s and Regina’s approach differed, they both shared the desire to be involved in whatever end game. If anyone was going to lead a strike against the Raiders it would be the captain and her first officer. Of all the individuals in the fleet it was Emma and Regina who had the most experience handling this brand of terrorism. It would be to the Commonwealth’s advantage to use their most qualified.

The problem, though, lied with communication. Since their debriefing, neither of them had been approached regarding Quarthos or the Raiders. It was cause for worry. Regina didn’t like being kept out of the loop any more than Emma. They were starting to get anxious.

It was on the day Regina was released from the hospital that they decided to come up with their own plan. There was a wealth of information to discuss, everything from Cora’s involvement to the Raider’s plans for Emma.

They needed some way of piecing it all together. Seemingly insignificant events were scattered like stars in the night sky. Past communications surfaced from memory and were linked with current information. While the facts were established, superfluous data was ruled out. They made connections, bringing the bigger picture into focus, and they did it as a team.

“My mother had an inkling about the Commonwealth and its apparent betrayal of the people,” Regina said. They were sitting on Emma’s sofa in her apartment and looking over the file work spread on the coffee table. Regina supported her chin in her hand while scrutinizing the clues. “The more I examine the evidence the more I start to wonder if she was right this whole time. I just hate that it took Henry’s kidnapping, among other events, to make me question my loyalties.”

“Hey,” Emma remarked, sitting not far from Regina on the same sofa, “I’ll be the first to admit our government’s hands are about as clean as a hover mechanic’s, but I’m not about to throw my support in with their greatest adversary. The enemy of my enemy is my friend crap is not going to fly this time around. I mean, Cora was your mother and she lured you into a trap. Mulan was a spy in my own home. You were nearly beaten to death on Anderson’s watch. Who can we trust here?”

“I think in light of everything that has happened we are being asked to suspend our disbelief. An institution we once thought decent and upright is suffering from a smear campaign years in the making. A group of terrorists are apparently just now reestablishing themselves as freedom fighters.” Regina waved to the paperwork she and Emma compiled. “There is adequate proof on both sides. Perhaps it’s not a question of whom to trust but who is the lesser of two evils.”

“Don’t tell me you actual believe that. It’s a weak excuse in view of the casualties we’ve sustained. I know you haven’t forgotten them, but bear in mind that the deaths of Valentino, Clarke, and Valdez will not be avenged through a matter of choosing between a lesser of two evils.”

“I wouldn’t normally resort to that principle, but these are dark times. At this juncture everyone has committed unforgivable sins.”

Emma’s eyebrows furrowed at the cryptic nature of Regina’s argument. “So what are you saying?”

“For right now,” Regina rubbed her fingers to her forehead in consternation, “this should stay between you and I. I still haven’t made up my mind about the Commonwealth or even the fleet for that matter. They cannot know about the prophecy or your association to it.”

“ _Supposed_ association,” Emma corrected with an insufferable sigh.

Regina smirked. “Of course.”

She admittedly enjoyed Emma’s exasperation. While Regina was a veteran of the holos and accustomed to the expectations of her superiors and the general public, Emma took to the spotlight like sound waves in a vacuum.

At the same time she worried about the weight this must have had on Emma. It couldn’t be an easy thing to find out you were the savior of the galaxy. Emma liked to think of herself as a simple woman just trying to get by. All she wanted in the galaxy was to venture the star systems and be with her son. But Regina had come to understand Emma as more than what she thought of herself. She could hardly be described as ‘simple,’ and she offered more to the galaxy than her skills in trying everything possible to get herself killed. Extraordinary people rarely lived simple lives. According to the prophecy, Emma would be no different.

Regina inched back, separating herself from the damning paperwork. “I just can’t help feeling we have misjudged the Raiders – at least those who did not side with Leopold’s methods.”

Rolling her shoulder, Emma hated to agree, but the more they discussed it the clearer her judgment was concerning the Raiders. “It’s more than that. When I talked with Anderson he gave me the impression that he had quite enough evidence to put the deceitful half of the Commonwealth on trial. I think he was just waiting to bring me into the fold. Without the Chosen One they stand little chance of assembling a united front.” Emma glanced at Regina to add, “Not that I’m suggesting I’m the Chosen One.”

Regina detected the alarm rising in Emma and grinned.

“‘Chosen One?’”

They turned simultaneously to the chipper voice of Henry. He tottered from his room, scrubbing a fist to his eyes. Though having just woken from a nap, he appeared relatively alert for story time.

“Hey, little pilot.” Emma wiggled her fingers to welcome him over. He climbed up to sit on her knee and she held him close around his middle. “Good nap?”

“Yeah,” he replied before leaping back to his earlier question. “Whatcha talking about?”

Emma could see Regina opening her mouth to give an elaborate explanation, no doubt. “Just a story, kiddo,” she jumped in before Regina could utter a word.

“About…?”

“Oh, the usual: princes and princesses, space pirates, a hero that’s supposed to save the galaxy against evil forces.” She punctuated ‘evil’ with sneaking fingers to his tummy and startled tickling.

He giggled and squirmed to her prodding. When his laughing died down he poked a finger to her chin playfully and said, “I got a story like that. It’s about princes and princesses and heroes and a _huge_ battle.” Henry’s eyes blew wide to emphasize the scope of the tale. “Maybe it’s the same one as yours.”

“There’s a lot of books out there,” Emma pointed out.

“Henry,” Regina leaned in just as he shared his smile with her. “Is this story you speak of in a book?” He nodded. Emma cautioned her from over his head with a glare. “Do you have it here?” He nodded furiously, getting ready to dismount. “Would you be willing to show us, please?”

“Yep!” he called, halfway to his room.

Emma turned on Regina with an accusatory frown. “You’re a really bad influence.”

Regina cocked her head. “This coming from the one who thinks burgers and fries are their own food group.”

“What do we tell him when it’s not the same story? He’s pretty hopeful that it is.”

“We lie,” Regina said simply.

“Wow, you sure know a lot about parenting for not being a parent.”

“We lie to avoid crushing his feelings. If that’s not what being a parent is, then I don’t wish to find out.”

They heard the pattering of little feet and out came Henry with a very hefty book in his arms. Sitting between the adults, he spread the book open on his legs. His hair stuck up, awry from the flight and Regina smiled and smoothed it down with a tender hand.

He pointed to the color illustration of a dark figure. “That’s the Savior. She’s supposed to save all the planets and the people in ‘em.”

Emma noticed that the figure had no discernable male or female characteristics. For all intents and purposes the person’s gender remained shadowed. “Why do you call the Savior a ‘she’?”

“I dunno. I guess cause she looks like you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Henry asserted. He showed her the subsequent pages featuring the obscure Savior. “She’s really brave and sticks up for her friends. She doesn’t like evil people, but there’s this one person, the Queen. The Savior really likes her.”

“Oh, who is this queen you speak of?” Regina asked with a theatrical gasp.

“ _Regina_ ,” Emma chided lightly with a laugh.

Henry wasn’t about to let his mother spoil his excitement, so he explained anyway. “The Queen rules over a bunch of people – I forget what they’re called…”

“Subjects?” Regina supplied.

“Yep, but her subjects don’t agree with everything she does. She wasn’t a very nice person before the Savior met her.”

“I can see why.” Emma observed the picture of the Savior and the Queen, facing each other in what looked to be an offensive stance. “She’s pretty short for royalty.”

Scowling, Regina backhanded Emma’s shoulder. She didn’t know why she felt the need to. It wasn’t as if this crowned and cloaked black figure was meant to be her. No more than Emma was the Savior. Regina frowned at her motives, but Emma seemed too caught up in her amusement to question her.

“Well, they don't get along at first,” Henry reasoned. “They fight a lot and the Savior always does things that make the queen worry and stuff. But just like the Savior is destined to save the worlds, she is meant to re-re-redempt…”

Regina grinned and dipped her head. “Redeem?”

“Redeem the Queen, yeah. The Savior is really good at opening hearts, just like Momma.”

Emma suppressed a shudder. “I hope you don’t mean ‘opening hearts’ in the literal sense, kiddo.”

Henry scolded her with a frown and said, “You know what I mean.” He then addressed Regina who he had found to be much more receptive to this stuff. Smiling at her, he cited, “Here they are on the last page.”

Emma and Regina looked upon the page and its two central figures. The Savior stood tall and protective while the Queen looked just as mighty beside her. They were clasped hand in hand.

“And there are other characters, too! A girl in a red cloak, a librarian, a thief, a dwarf, and a cute lizard. There’s also a doctor princess and her prince in a white coat. They all help her with the mission.” He folded the book shut and looked expectantly from one to the other. “Cool, huh?”

Regina smiled and laughed while Emma just scratched her head with a roll of the eyes.

“That’s not the word I would use.”

Henry scrunched his face as only a Swan could. “What’s your word?”

“Fiction,” Emma stated flatly.

Regina prompted with a raise of her brow. “Let’s get the facts then, shall we?”

She flipped to the front but only found a blank white page where she expected the copyright. There was no visible print or handwritten signature. Most people would initial their property to signify ownership, but those were the days before datapads and Old World e-readers. She was about to give up when Emma slapped her hand down, preventing the pages from turning.

“Wait!” Emma flattened the center binding to reveal an inscription scrawled along the inside. She recited, “’ _Ense petit placidam sub libertate quietem_.’” Emma looked to Regina. “Sounds like a motto or something.”

“I recognize the language. It’s Latin.” At Emma’s rolling eyes she explained, “My mother tutored me herself. Though it’s been a dead language for hundreds of years, ironically, the Freedom Raiders have been known to use it as code.” She peered at the inscription again. “This particular phrase means, “’By the sword…” her eyes flicked up to Emma’s before returning to the binding. “By the sword she seeks gentle peace under liberty.”

“Huh.” Emma rubbed her chin as her features scrunched. “That is… incredibly ironic.”

“I thought you said Anderson didn’t know if the Chosen One was male or female.”

Emma was still staring at the maxim, a prophecy inscribed in ink. “He didn’t. It’s possible that information was lost with the book.”

Regina noticed the tension intensifying and assured her, “It could mean someone else.”

“Sure.”

“Anyone.”

“No doubt.”

“That writing looks funny,” remarked Henry.

Emma chuckled uneasily and held her son tighter. “Yeah, it sure does.”

With a concerned eye lingering on Emma, Regina squeezed Henry’s shoulder. “Sweetheart, where did you get this book?”

“Mulan. She read it to me before bedtime.” He looked up questioningly at Emma. “Where is she?”

“Henry, I told you already. She had to go off-planet.”

“No, she didn’t,” he said matter-of-factly.

Apprehension clouded Regina. She held his hand more securely. “What makes you say that?”

“Because I just saw her.”

Emma’s and Regina’s eyes locked, sharing in their worst fear.

“Before,” Emma cringed in the effort to steady her voice, “or after Regina and I arrived on Earth?”

“Before. She’s the one that gave me the book in the first place. I wanted to show you before, Momma, but Mulan said not to.”

The tendons in Emma’s jaw tightened. “Why not?”

“She said I couldn’t tell you until you were ready.”

“For what?” she asked at a near growl. The hairs of her forearm stood on end as she felt a presence near. Emma saw the hand and followed it up to the soothing, oddly understanding eyes of Regina. “For what?” she rephrased at a softer level.

“To believe,” Henry replied, offering that soft smile she needed in that moment. “She also gave me this.” He fished a data stick from his pocket and handed it to his mother. “What is it?”

Emma turned over the stick, staring at with a blend of astonishment and terror. “It stores stuff,” she explained vaguely.

He cocked his head. “What stuff?”

Regina licked her lips, watching Emma ignore her son completely for the aforementioned data disk. Ripping away from the worrisome spectacle, Regina jumped in. “Storage devices like this contain _data_ which can include anything from pictures to files. I’m sure this one contains detailed schematics for an upcoming assignment.”

“Oh,” Henry looked down dejectedly, “that sounds boring. I thought it was something real special.”

“Nevertheless, thank you for bringing it to us.” She smiled and rubbed his arm soothingly. “Why don’t you go open that new game I bought for you? Then you can show me how to play later.”

“Cool! You really wanna play?”

“Would I turn down a challenge to test my skills in cartoon sim?”

He sprinted so fast into his room Regina swore she saw smoke from his heels.

When Henry was out of sight, she flipped from caring friend to mannered captain in five seconds flat. Her face hardened and her back became rigid. She took in Emma’s despondent behavior, lost in her own thoughts for a moment, before rising with purpose. She strode from the sofa into the kitchen to retrieve her briefcase.

“May I have the disk?” Rejoining Emma on the sofa, Regina powered on her data pad. Sighing, she snatched the device from limp hands before Emma could snap back to reality. She plugged in the disk, waiting for results. “The file is encrypted, but this should be easy enough to crack.” After a few taps and strokes to the pad, the device gave a satisfying click. “Excellent. These numbers appear to be coordinates. If my knowledge of the coastal Maine grid is correct, this message is directing us to an abandoned building site.” Regina furrowed her brow at the likelihood. “Which is just a few blocks from here.”

She looked to Emma for input, but the woman was clearly in some other world while Regina did all the work. It was hardly surprising as she was accustomed with having to think for the both of them. Sighing again, Regina tossed the data disk back to Emma and gathered the paperwork into her briefcase.

“I think we have some hunting to do. Call August so he can look after Henry while we’re out. I’ve memorized the coordinates already, but pack the data disk just in case. And grab your blaster while you’re at it.”

Finally blinking back to the present, Emma’s eyes widened at the swiftness of the instructions. When her captain gave orders in this manner she was not expected to drag her heels and whine about it. Emma shot up and scrambled to gather the items. “Where are we going?”

“You do want to figure out whether or not you’re this Chosen One everyone is talking about, yes?”

Pausing in holstering her weapon, Emma made a face. “Not really, but okay.”

*** * ***

The building was a three-story warehouse with broken windows and a dilapidated character. It had no discernable features that present day buildings carried. There were no turbolifts or windows made of transparent metal alloy. The framework was made of wood, not durasteel, so ravenous termites had accosted the building’s structural integrity. It was Old World architecture – cracked, unstable, and long forgotten.

After shouldering through the front door, Emma led them through a long hallway. Broken pieces of drywall lay crumbled under their feet. A coat of white plaster dusted their boots and pants as they navigated around the wreckage. The air carried a musty, mildew smell and it was not pleasant. Thankfully, it was better than the scent of rotting rodent flesh or the sweaty old homeless.

Suddenly, in the dim light between shadow and midday, Regina took a fist full of Emma’s jacket and yanked her back.

Emma gave a startled squeak. She threw an irritable look over her shoulder and demanded, “What was that for?”

Regina indicated to the offset square tile. “If depressed, it would have sprung a horrible trap.”

“You’re paranoid.”

Nevertheless, Emma dodged around the tile and proceeded further into the building. Not much later her foot got snagged on something. She froze and looked down to see a trip wire. “Blast. Reg –“

There was a yelp of surprise. A large vibroknife swung out of nowhere and cut across the hallway. Regina leapt back just in time for its humming silver blade to miss her. Gasping for breath, she closed her eyes and laid a hand to her pounding heart.

Emma gave out a breathy chuckle, wiping the sweat from her brow. The skin at the back of her neck prickled then, giving her the sensation that someone or something was breathing on it. Holding completely still while Regina collected herself, Emma counted down from five and when she reached one her blaster was in her hand. Before she turned fully a boot thrust out and connected with her wrist. Emma winced in pain as the weapon flew from her grip.

Adrenaline kicked in, fueling her fists to pummel the masked attacker but they were too fast. The heel of a gloved hand met her chest, knocking the wind from her lungs. Before she could get her bearings her body was expertly twisted around and braced to the attacker’s front. An arm cinched around her neck, holding her prisoner.

By the time Regina heard the clatter of a blaster it was too late. She released her own pistol from within her jacket and trained it lightspeed fast on the masked figure restraining Emma.

Cocking her head, Regina shot Emma an angry, pointed look and reiterated, “ _Horrible trap_.”

Emma throat strained for air under the pressing arm. “Could you be any less condescending right now?” she rasped.

“Put the blaster down.” The voice sounded female and deadly serious. When Regina carried out no such order, the masked woman reached behind her back and unleashed a blaster of her own. She wielded it for effect before placing its muzzle against the skin of Emma’s temple. “ _Now_ ,” she emphasized by pressing into her skull.

Eyes clamping shut, Emma grimaced over clenched teeth but nothing came out. No screams of discomfort or expletives to show her hostility. She would not be easily goaded into playing the victim.

With Emma held at blaster point, Regina saw no other option. She had the means to put down the intruder, but not without wounding Emma. Her fingers hesitated around the handle as she connected with the green eyes pleading for a good fight. Not today. She lowered her weapon, exhaling soundly in defeat.

“Throw it over.”

The moment her blaster slid to a halt before the attacker’s feet, Emma was released and thrown forward. Regina moved quickly to steady her. When she could physically latch her hands on Emma and see that she was unharmed, her heart returned to a less frantic state.

“You actually believed I would kill our only hope?”

Regina’s eyes left the bruised neck for the sneering woman. It became apparent that she only intended to disarm them, not endanger them (yet). “We haven’t been introduced. I am Commander Regina Mills and this is my first officer, Emma –“

“Swan, I know.”

Not comfortable with some stranger knowing her identity, Emma stepped forward with grit etched into her face. “And you are?”

The gloved hand reached up and plucked the mask from her head. Long, glossy black hair tumbled over her shoulders. Keen brown eyes one might mistake for serene pierced back at the two companions.

“Mulan,” Emma growled. It took seconds to recover before her eyes transformed from shock to anger. “I saw you on Xelphi Six! It was completely destroyed. No one could have survived the blast!”

“My name is not Mulan. It’s Ren. The woman you speak of was my sister.”

“Twin sister,” Regina gathered softly. She crawled back in the recesses of her memory to retrieve a similar assertion. “My crew and I intercepted a transmission before we arrived on Xelphi Six. There were two voices, a man and a woman I knew to be Mulan. The man spoke of her twin sister.” Her eyes cleared from the memory to behold the mystery woman. “You.”

“As I said, Mulan was my sister.”

“And you were the one my son saw a few days ago?” Emma asked. “You gave him the data stick with the coordinates to come here and meet you?”

“Yes, and now that you have come like a good little pup we can proceed. If you would follow me.” She began walking up a set of steps. Then, hesitating, she sensed Emma’s growing distrust and threw over her shoulder, “That is, if you wish to find out who you really are.”

Emma looked to Regina for guidance and was met with a sincerity and trust that brushed softly against her skin. It was new and it felt awfully exciting.

Regina raised a brow, indicating for them to follow Ren. “We did come all this way.”

“Three blocks,” Emma debated.

“Whether it was three blocks or thirteen, are you really going to pass up this chance?”

Emma thought of her son who was at home playing video games with Uncle August. She thought of the child that depended on her and the crew that followed her example. Sighing with uncharacteristic defeat, Emma replied, “No.”

Ren led them up a flight of stairs all the way to the top level. The floor was spacious and occupied with most of the bedroom and living room essentials. Broken windows let in light and fresh air. Emma and Regina were directed to sit on one of the sofas.

“So what’s the story with you and your sister?” Emma asked. “How come I didn’t know about you before?”

“You didn’t know because I was spying for the Raiders. My presence was supposed to be kept secret until the right moment. You might think those are relatively straightforward instructions, but believe me, in times of shifting allegiances they are anything but straightforward. My orders to watch you came from Leopold, however my task to reveal myself to you was from Anderson.”

Regina tilted her head. “You were working both sides?”

Ren nodded. “Up until Leopold’s death. I never had any shred of respect for him and neither did my sister. We carried out our orders because he was the strongest voice at the time. Anderson was the one we had faith in. He mandated operations very carefully behind Leopold’s back.”

Emma ground her teeth and shouted, “And yet Mulan obeyed Leopold by kidnapping my son and nearly stabbing me to death! What’s her excuse for that?” The reality that this was a twin they were dealing with struck Emma causing her to blink in confusion. “Or… or I assume it was Mulan on Xelphi Six.”

Ren’s eyes grew darker and her jaw set grimly. “Yes, Mulan was the one on Xelphi Six. _I_ was supposed to be on that station. Leopold ordered _me_ to take your boy and rendezvous with them.” She turned away, focusing her anger to the floor. “But she was close to him. She insisted that he would behave, that he would remain unharmed if she was the one to deliver him. You see…” she looked back with glassy eyes, “… I was the warrior, the fighter. I was better equipped to deal with a dangerous situation. I understood the way Leopold operated because I relayed most communications and was tasked with intelligence work on Earth.”

Ren turned to Regina and said, “The paramedic who tended to your wounds that day you saved the boy was me. Mulan was nothing but a babysitter with a connection to her charge. She could not guarantee her own safety and yet she insisted on carrying out Leopold’s treacherous directive.” She stared past them with a look of dread and memory. “It would seem my assertions of our proficiencies were correct.”

Emma watched her closely. She knew guilt when she saw it. She also knew what it was like to feel responsible for death. “You lived and she died.”

“You may think I desire retribution,” Ren remarked steadily. She swallowed, staring coolly into Emma’s apprehensive green eyes. “If you were anyone else we would not be having this conversation.”

Regina’s back became straight as she bristled at the threat. She narrowed her eyes. “ _Do_ explain.”

“I presume Anderson briefed you on the prophecy?”

“Yeah.” Emma idly scratched the back of her neck.

“My sister believed in it so much that she was willing to risk her life for the Chosen One’s son. She _did_ risk her life and it has gotten her blown to space dust.” Ren sucked in a breath, calming her grieving heart before continuing. “But she believed in you. She has believed in your future since the day she placed herself in your path. I have never met you, Emma Swan, but Mulan always spoke very highly of you. Though it might not seem possible, considering her betrayal, she did consider you her friend. She worried what effect this burden of being the Chosen One would have on you. I’m sure if she was alive and with us today she’d advise you to take the week off and drown yourself in a carton of ice cream.”

Emma broke into a smile. She brought her hand up to her eyes and found them to be wet with tears. Ren was right, despite Mulan’s duplicity she had been a good friend to her.

“My sister believes - _believed_ \- and I will honor her memory by aiding the Chosen One.”

“That is very…” Regina blinked in an effort to find the right word, “forward of you. I am sorry for your loss and I realize it cannot be easy to make peace in light of your grief. However, Emma has had no knowledge of your existence and we have only now just learned of your commitment to the prophecy. If you expect to help, we must know a little about you.”

“It is only fair.” Ren sat back in her arm chair, running a hand threw her hair. She stared up into the rafters of her home and began her story. “We belonged to a tribe on Jīnxīng.”

“Belonged?” Regina frowned at the use of the past tense.

“When Mulan and I were ten years old the Commonwealth Bureau of Natural Resources came to our planet in good faith. They spoke of lofty opportunities and a prosperous life for all the tribes on Jīnxīng. But that is the mask they wear, the performance that conceals their actual intentions. After the scientists mollified our concerns, men and women in suits took over. They capitalized on our land’s wealth to jump start their galactic economy.”

“Your planet is peopled by female warriors,” Emma recalled. “Every girl is trained at the age of six. Everyone knows how to do battle. Why didn’t you just push them out?”

“We tried. My mothers, our friends and neighbors, my teachers… They all fought against oppression, but our tribes were no match for the might of the Commonwealth’s private arm of killers. Mulan and I were rendered homeless and without any family. Our parents died in an orbital strike. Dozens of homes were flattened by a barrage of cannon fire. We had no other choice but to escape. Like many refugees, Mulan and I found a place on Earth. We were happy there, for a time, until the government leveled certain… restrictions on foreign immigrants. All my sister and I wanted was a second chance. We were able workers and willing to do our part. All we wanted was a home.”

Emma nodded her understanding. “And the Commonwealth blasted it to space parts.”

Hearing a similar story to her own softened her heart. Some orphans and runaways had a way of getting drawn to one another and sharing in their pasts and demons. Emma hadn’t had many chances like that, but it was nice to know she wasn’t the only lost soul in the universe.

Drawing a scandalous gasp, Regina found it hard to wrap her head around. She led a fortunate childhood with both parents and a generous trust fund. “You were only ten years old?”

“We were forced to grow up sooner than expected. We didn’t even have time to process our mothers’ deaths before we had to stow away on a trade ship lifting off the planet. Later, the Raiders became our salvation. They took us in and gave us everything the Commonwealth prohibited and destroyed. By the year of our sixteenth birthday we were well versed in the campaign to topple the institution that had once opened their arms to us. Mulan and I formally aligned ourselves with the Raiders and their true cause towards freedom.”

“Can you expand upon this cause?” Regina asked.

“Yeah,” Emma chimed in, “there’s some blanks that need filling in.”

“This isn’t going to be easy to hear. Especially you, Regina, what with your honorable service record and time served under the fleet.”

“I was always aware of the Commonwealth’s attitudes towards foreigners and Command’s lack of diversity. That is why I see just cause in crewing my starship with the best and brightest, regardless of supposed inbred inferiority.”

“All the same, did you know the fleet’s strongest asset, Admiral George, has singlehandedly taken control of the High Council?”

Regina’s eyes flicked to Emma who looked just as aghast.

“Apparently not,” mumbled Ren. “Admiral George, as you know, has served in Cosmofleet for over thirty years and has of late been a strong advocate of fleet armament. He suggests they take on a more aggressive role in defending the colonies.”

“Yes,” Regina said, “the Fleet Deployment Act has been debated over for years. But there are too many against the bill, and for good reason. Since its installment, the purpose of Cosmofleet has always been one of defense and exploration. Aside from moral implications, the people would never approve the tax increase to fund such a mobilization.”

Ren surged forward on the edge of her seat. Her face of durasteel resolve implored them to see through the vapor cloud their fleet had created. “The people have been fooled into believing they are at risk. They are being wrongfully informed of the source of such danger. Under the influence of Admiral George, the High Council and most of the fleet have convinced everyone that the Raiders are a threat to their society. He already has the HoloNet bought and paid for. He can make the news say anything he wants.”

“Well, the Raiders kind of are a threat,” Emma muttered with a roll of her eyes. She listed the grievances off each finger. “Bombings, kidnapping women and children, smuggling, spying, forced defection… Must I go on?”

“Things have changed, Emma. Leopold and his advisors are no longer in power. Once the Chosen One stands up and reveals herself, the Raiders will act in your favor. Now is the time to prove to the people just who the enemy is here. Without us they will persist in blind obeisance. Admiral George has been building power from within. The Commonwealth you knew and loved is now just a front for his empire. If he is not stopped, the Fleet Deployment Act will be set in motion and your gods damned fleet will commence with the slaughter of innocent beings along with the galaxy’s only hope of freedom.”

The idea triggered an icy shudder up Regina’s spine. That institution Ren was talking about was her’s and Emma’s home. The fleet had been their own salvation and hope for a better life. It had always been Emma’s dream to jet across the expanse of outer space in search of adventure and thrill rides.

For Regina, Cosmofleet inspired mixed signals. Piloting spacecraft and exploring the galaxy on someone else’s authority had never been a dream of hers. Though her mother forced her into it, Regina had grown to view her command as a blessing in disguise. She loved her starship like it was her one true friend. And there may be fluctuating attitudes between her and her crewmembers, but in recent years they had come to a peaceful co-existence. She wouldn’t trade her years in the fleet nor the relationships she had forged for anything.

“How long has the admiral been planning this?” Regina asked Ren.

“Years I’d reckon. The Raiders have been trying to prove that their objective is to free the people from George’s rule. In turn, George has been mobilizing Cosmofleet to root them out. He has been very calculating about doing this so as not to attract undue attention. He labels the enemy as outsiders and terrorists. He sets up any truth as a lie.”

Ren focused on Emma and held up a cautioning hand, predicting her objection. “While some of his accusations of radicalism are in fact accurate, that is only a partial truth. As you have been told, the Raiders have gone astray in recent years due to an arrogant leader. Leopold polluted the ranks of the organization, promoting terror and violent crime. With him gone we seek a new voice, the true leader destined to unite the people, not just Raiders, and overthrow Admiral George and his reprehensible plot.”

Emma laced her fingers together and peered over them at Ren, asking, “What about Anderson?”

“He likes to think of himself as more of an interim leader. Says he’s just keeping your seat warm for when you accept your destiny.” Blasé, she waved a hand. “His words, not mine.”

“The book he spoke of, the one that contains the prophecy and is so conveniently misplaced, sounds like a bedtime story.”

“Technically, it is,” Ren said. “Did Henry show you the book?”

Regina nodded.

Emma shrugged. “Seems to me like nothing more than a compilation of fairy tales.”

“Many Raider children are brought up on those tales. Everyone knows you, Emma, as the one who will bridge the gap. We also know of the Queen and her many atrocities against our numbers.”

Lips parting, Regina shook at the possibility that she was the Queen-led-astray from Henry’s book. The Raiders not only believed Emma to be their Chosen One, but also saw Regina as the redeemed Queen. She frowned, recalling the last page and the union between two destined figures. Regina became lost in her thickening emotions as their host went on.

“But these are just half-truths,” Ren established. “There are people like me who do not agree with certain sections of the book. We believe in choice. Regina, you may have hunted down our people and committed innocent lives to death, but there are ways to redemption. Emma, you may not want to accept your place in the prophecy, but destiny doesn’t have to be the only reason to take up this cause.”

Emma’s head perked up to the alternative option.

“Think of your loved ones, your friends. They are also in need of your help. This may all sound like a bedtime story but it is real to a lot of people – thousands who have sacrificed their lives for a cause they believe in. If that is too much weight to carry, Emma, then stand up not for thousands but for the few you care about.”

A silence fell upon the three women. Ren’s eyes shifted from Emma and Regina, hardly envious of the position they were now in. They were being asked to question their loyalty in a once noble enterprise. Ren would hate to be forced into turning her back on the only source of truth she had known, but that’s exactly what they were faced with. Ren was willing to help ease that burden from their shoulders. She owed it to her sister, at least.

“Now I’m afraid I have to ask you to leave.” Ren rose while Regina and Emma did the same. “This is not just a base of operations but my home. I do not desire any unnecessary attention as you two are very recognizable. There’s no telling where George’s spies have been sniffing around. I have told you all I know. If you require further proof, here it is.”

Emma reached out to take the data disk, but it was pulled back at the last second.

“This is everything I have ever gathered for the Raiders, since the moment I was recruited to this very day. If this falls into the wrong hands, many people will die. You may not trust the Raiders right now, but understand that they are more than crafty spies. They are children, some left orphans at the hands of the leaders you report to.”

Looking down solemnly at the disk and back up at Ren, Emma nodded. “I won’t let it get out in the open. I promise.”

Regina stepped in close to Emma to examine the data disk. How could a device of plain design hold such damning conspiracies? This was the evidence they had been looking for. Regina never expected or hoped for it all to come down to this. Even if they were not ready to believe in their outlandish destinies, they could now begin to understand the evil rooted in the Commonwealth.

* * *

“I don’t know about you, but I can’t think any more about this tonight.”

While Regina had taken her “moment” outside, Emma sent August home. Upon the door closing behind Regina, Emma shrugged out of her jacket and parked herself in front of the refrigerator. The light from inside cast her in a soft yellow glow as she tipped back a bottle of beer. A frothy drip escaped and ran down her chin but it was ignored. She closed her eyes and savored the cold drink.

“In fact,” she continued, brushing at the drip tickling her neck. “I’d rather not think at all.”

Regina tuned out Emma in favor of staring at the sofa. She examined it carefully as she would her senior officers’ reports. The furniture took up most of the living room and was just one of two sofas that could fit in the small, cozy apartment. The sofa was long enough to stretch out on and appeared aptly unsoiled.

The refrigerator door slammed shut, startling Regina out of her trance. She turned to Emma who had been watching her the whole time and was now fidgeting with the zipper on the side of her cargos.

“Look,” Emma started, eyes shifting between the floor and Regina’s eyes, “I know you turned down my offer to stay, but it’s getting late and I don’t want you to have to take a hovercab into the Presidio.” She slipped her hands into her pockets in the hopes that it made her seem indifferent. “It’s really no trouble.”

Regina’s eyes fluttered as she started to shake her head. “Well, I –“

“There are only two bedrooms, so you can take my bed. I assume you won’t want to sleep in Henry’s spaceship bed. I don’t think you’d fit – not that you’re, like, big in any sort of… negative way. You’re perfect.” Emma covered her mouth. She was still trying to catch up with whatever drivel came out of her mouth. It was as if her hand worked of its own volition to shut her up. Horrified and a million parsecs past embarrassed, Emma utilized the scratching of her forehead as a means to hide her blush. “I haven’t slept there since being back and the sheets were changed before I left to rejoin _Storybrooke_ , so it’s all good.”

“ _Miss_ _Swan_ ,” Regina remarked with a stiff tilt of head, “if you hadn’t interrupted me you would not have had to make that eloquent speech at lightspeed. I am, in fact, taking your offer to stay. It has been a long day. I am tired,” she finished, foregoing her superior vocabulary to describe the wave of vertigo coming over her.

“Are you still feeling unwell? I have some mild pain killers around here…”

“No.” Regina raised a hand to stop her progress. “Thank you. I think I will just sit down for a moment.”

While she put her feet up and rested, Emma checked on Henry. He was all kinds of excited to share his new video game with Regina. He spent most of the afternoon mapping out the logistics of the game with Uncle August.

Upon hearing this, it occurred to Emma that the reason for August’s cranky attitude when she arrived home to relieve him of babysitting duty was all due to a superior ass kicking courtesy of her awesome child. Emma wasn’t surprised. The Swans made it their business to defeat August Booth in sim games. The only difference was Henry didn’t brag. Emma couldn’t be prouder of such upstanding behavior.

Henry was bummed that Regina would be recouping on the sofa that night instead of playing with him. His selfish instinct to milk every minute of her recovery would not have made a difference either way. Regina seemed just as disappointed to miss out on time with Henry.

It being past five and with nowhere to direct the boy’s boundless energy, Emma suggested some fresh air.

She rested her hand on his shoulder as they left his room. Regina sat quietly on the sofa with her eyes closed. She looked so serene Emma hated to disturb her.

“Regina?”

Long, dark eyelashes fluttered open. She looked around, confusion painted on her face. She’d only been sitting for a few minutes. Had she dozed off?

“Henry and I are going for a walk. We might grab a bite to eat. You want to join us?”

“Thank you, no. I’m not hungry.”

Emma studied the pale, slightly perspiring face for a moment before nodding. She watched as Regina tilted her lips up in a smile, exhausted but achingly sincere, in Henry’s direction.

Regina let her head sink back. Her eyes followed them out and when she heard the click of the front door closing she let out a long, heavy sigh. Emma may not want to talk about what they had learned that day, but Regina needed to process it. She preferred to do it alone and yet… it felt wrong. It felt like the kind of wrong she sensed when declining Emma’s first offer to stay at the apartment. It nearly scared her to think of leaving Henry again, and she told herself that was the reason for her flip in decision. Staying, if only for a short while, felt all kinds of right.

* * *

Henry wanted to go to the park and play catch with the baseball. He never liked it before (instead preferring dodge discus against his mother’s wishes), but since she’d been off-planet those past few weeks he’d really missed playing with her. Emma’s heart warmed in agreement.

They shared a few lobs at the nearest park. Emma instructed her son on the way to hold the ball and how to lay his fingers over the red laces. She had done so before, of course, but this time was different. This time Henry was open to the lessons.

The past few days he came to understand the effect his mother had on him both when she was Earthside and when she was away on commission. If he missed out on these precious moments with her, learning proper follow through and rules in sportsman-like conduct, he might never get another chance. His mom led an adventurous and rewarding life, but a dangerous one nonetheless. The hours he spent with her might be his last.

No child should have had to worry about such things, but Emma raised her son to be a conscientious and warm sentient being. He was reaching an age when his perceptions were expanding. He didn’t just live in his own little world with his mom and his cartoons and his toys. There was more to it than that. Entire solar systems shined out there – planets and stars and weird looking sentients – waiting to be discovered.

Once Henry started complaining about hunger pains they quit the park to go in search of dinner. There was a taco stand set up on the opposite street to which Henry dragged her to. There she treated him to a huge taco loaded with vegetables. If Regina had a bone to pick with Emma on her unhealthy cuisine influence, she would have to be proved wrong by this instance because her kid would eat literally anything she put in front of him be it a deluxe cheeseburger or a Dubrilian fish and cabbage taco.

Siting at the picnic table, Emma and Henry were cleaning their fingers and mentally reliving their taco feast when the sun began to set. By the time they arrived home to beat the blanket of darkness, they were raising fists to their yawning mouths.

Regina was as they left her with one altered detail. Instead of using the bed Emma offered she took to curling up on the sofa. Delicately snoring as only someone of Regina’s manners could, she persisted in a deep, undisturbed sleep.

Emma put her finger to her lips and took Henry by the hand. She gave the slumbering woman a wide birth and led her son around the coffee table on tip-toes. Before they got much further there was a tug on her hand.

“Momma?”

Emma detected the exhaustion in the boy’s voice. They’d been out practically all evening and the long walk had tired them both out to the point of squinting eyes and wobbly gaits. “Henry we have to get you to bed. It’s late.”

He fought the sleepiness weighing down the lids of his eyes. He rubbed his one eye with his little fist and implored, “Can I say goodnight?”

That pleading of his did things to Emma’s heart she’d admit to very few people. She felt tugged a second time towards the couch and nodded her permission for fear that she’d topple over her own feet.

Henry’s hand slipped from hers and a pang filled Emma as he went to Regina. There was something telling about how he did it, his necessity to go to her like he’d been doing it for years, and, just as telling, how Emma let him. It may not be jealousy, but it approached very nearly that.

She drew a hand over her face. It was stupid to think she was jealous of Regina. Overwhelmed to the point that she was hallucinating unbearable predictions, she blamed it on a severe lack of sleep. She shook her head and proceeded to Henry’s room. When the whispers reached her she caught her hand on the doorframe, turned, and watched from the doorway.

Henry was bent down near the couch so his face came within inches of Regina’s. Her face was serene and she remained unmoving when puffs of breath stirred the strands of hair framing her face. If anything, she looked better off as the boy’s goodnight washed over like a warm blanket. From the hallway, Emma watched as the slumbering form seemed to float with the sigh.

Henry retreated as quietly as possible in his semi-wakeful state. A little upturn of his mouth displayed his satisfaction at a mission well accomplished. The captain would surely find herself proud of his covert talents if not the inclination to use the new name he had for her in a wish goodnight.

Emma blinked to see Henry there and realized she’d spaced out for a moment. “Ready now?” she asked, smirking tiredly.

“Aren’t you gonna say goodnight?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, taking her son by the shoulders and steering him into the room, “sure.”

They prepared for bed like androids. Arms and legs moved sluggishly but naturally to a routine. Despite their always being apart, they had a system down so that Henry could do most of this himself, but with Emma back it went unsaid that it needed to be done together.

She helped him get out of his clothes, suppressing a laugh when he nearly stumbled, half-asleep. She got his toothbrush ready as he put on his pajamas. Henry washed his face, cleaned his teeth, and gargled with mouthwash without having to be told, which brought a smile to Emma.

“When?”

“When what?” She tickled his feet to coax his legs off the bed so she could untuck the blanket.

He chuckled, his toes curling up out of reach. “When are you gonna say goodnight to Regina?”

During his giggling fit she threw the space-themed blanket over him and pinned him down like a mummy wrapped in starships. “When you go to sleep,” she said and finished with a smack of lips to his cheek.

Emma turned out the light and watched his room get doused in darkness. His night-light triggered from a corner of his bedroom and cast a revolving blue light. It was just enough for her to make out the eyelashes flutter closed. She pulled the doorknob behind her and closed the door to soft snores.

Suddenly, Emma didn’t feel so tired. She made herself busy in the kitchen, not really doing anything of importance but opening cabinets and the refrigerator. She made mental notes of what items to get on her grocery run the next day and organized drawers without the slightest sound. Emma needlessly bided her time until she found herself standing over Regina’s sleeping form.

There was a blanket in her arms. The fleece material felt so soft in her hands it proved hard not to bring up and bury her nose in it. The soft hairs of the material tickled her cheek as she inhaled and sighed pleasantly in the scent of her son – Spaceman Joe shampoo, innocence, and sometimes maple syrup. Gods, if she could only take that smell with her wherever she went. If only she could take it out of her pocket and hide in its security and its love.

It probably hadn’t been washed lately, but it smelled of Henry and Henry always smelled so clean. It was terribly un-Swanlike because Emma always went around smelling like she was born in a leather outlet across from a McDonalds.

A snort slipped through her chuckle and she clapped a hand over her mouth. If Regina woke she’d be more displeased with the snort than finding her first officer hovering over her and looking to suffocate her with a blanket.

But back to the leather and french fry grease. At least that’s the case on Earth. The atmosphere of a starship was too cold and sanitary to catch the pungency of normal scents. If anything, Emma carried with her the smell of disobedience.

She draped the blanket over Regina. Bracing one hand on the back of the couch and the other on the arm where Regina’s head rested, she hovered breathlessly in anticipation.

For Henry, she thought as her head dipped low. “’night, Regina.”

Her lips hovered over the now furrowed brow. Regina gave a small moan, not one of pleasure but of distress. Her head turned up slightly as if trying to catch the sound, but she was dreaming and nothing could be definitively grasped in a dream.

Emma’s lips traveled up to the crown of the mussed head of midnight brown hair and pressed into warmth and oblivion. Before she knew it her eyes were drooping closed and her nose was practically groping. Regina smelled so blasted good.

A part of her got a bit of a power trip over it. She’d never been able to behold Regina like this when she was on some rampage to destroy people’s careers. The captain always remained on guard, unless Henry fluttered his eyes and said things like “pweety pwease with a cheewry on towp.”

But another part of Emma felt invincible. It was like Kathryn said, Regina triggered these thoughts and feelings in her she wouldn’t have around any other sentient. A shot of adrenaline coursed through Emma’s veins, giving her delusions of grandeur and puffing up her courage. She felt like she could do something right now, something so outrageous right there with Regina beneath her and get away scot-free.

A rare case of common sense had her pulling away. Hands starting a tremble, Emma pried her eyes open. Regina laid there, debilitatingly vulnerable and oblivious to Emma’s proximity much less the conflicting things flying around in her head like a team of dogfighting starfighters.

“Vaporize me.”

The mumble barely reached whisper level as her gaze caressed the soft olive skin. If Regina had been awake she’d probably be shivering under the eyes assessing her every shape and beauty. But she persisted in dreaming with a fitful brow and so never experienced how feverish her body might react otherwise.

Hopelessly done in, Emma scraped for the last vestiges of consciousness. Her heavy feet carried her to her bedroom, the door hanging open like ancient Old World history. She fell face down into the pillows and stayed like that until dawn.


	9. Chapter 9

“Hey.”

Regina rotated in her seat to see Emma walking from her bedroom. Her blonde hair fell down in snarly waves and had a matted quality on the right side of her head. The green of her eyes could hardly be detected under the heavy lids of her eyes. Her clothes – tank top and yoga pants – were rumpled and worn in some places.

“Hey,” she returned, blinking.

Although Regina was not a stranger to beholding this state of lethargy, she had not the pleasure of seeing it so early in the morning and definitely not when they were off-duty. Suddenly, Regina blinked. Why on Earth would she think it a pleasure? While Emma was famous for her disinclination to wear a uniform, there was some appeal to the informality of how she presented. Informality in the context of Emma’s appearance, but also in the way Regina perceived her. She had not thought to insult her for it, nor cite regulation in the midst of such… unlawfully torn tank.

Then, as if by magic, it struck her why she felt so unbothered. Regina ripped her eyes away from the muscle-toned midriff and swung herself back to her datapad. Closing her eyes, she placed her hand to her reddening cheek.

Sleepy-eyed, Emma shuffled to a stop before the roasting coffee maker. She blinked at it and mumbled, “You made coffee.”

“You’re welcome.” Regina blew on the wisps of steam rising from her mug. She then pursed her lips and took the daintiest sip Emma had every witnessed.

After pouring herself a cup, Emma leaned back against the back counter and blew on the strong, murky contents of her mug. Through the coiling steam she noted Regina’s morning appearance. She was alert, yet unobtrusive. Her hair was brushed, her face clean of makeup, and a few wrinkles in her purple silk blouse but no worse for wear.

There was something else about her that Emma couldn’t quite pin down. Even half-awake she prepared herself for some dig to her appearance or how she walked or breathed, but no such dig came. This person drinking Emma’s coffee was not the same bitch queen of the universe she was used to dealing with.

Instead, she possessed a subtle gentleness about her. It may all have been due to the lack of makeup, but it just so happened that Regina looked kind of adorable in the morning.

“You look good.”

Regina’s head snapped up. She prepared a glare but all that sprung came in the form of wide-eyed astonishment.

Emma slammed her eyes shut and mentally scolded herself. “I mean, you look better. Last night you mentioned that you were feeling pretty tired. Do you feel any better?”

“Yes, thank you,” Regina said slowly. “I do feel better. The sofa is deceptively soft and quite conducive to sleeping in. And the blanket was… it was nice.”

Aware that Emma knew the owner of said nice blanket, Regina looked away to hide her blush. She knew it was Henry’s upon waking. It was just the thing he would take to what with the starry scape and streaking battle cruisers. It even smelled like him. She immediately knew it to be his like she knew the sky was blue or that ion engines ran on antimatter.

“Is Henry still asleep?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Emma lifted her wrist chrono. “School doesn’t start for another hour and he likes to make every spare minute count.”

She smiled along with Emma.

“I’m dropping him off after breakfast. Would you like to tag along?”

Regina’s chin dropped and she went back to studying her datapad as if it required her immediate attention. She frowned, uncertain how she and Emma had arrived to this juncture. “If Henry thinks it is a good idea.”

“Well, of course he’ll think so.” Emma laughed, scrunching her face at the odd behavior. “Since when would he pass up a chance to walk alongside Commander Mills herself?”

She received no reply, so she made herself busy in the kitchen, throwing together Henry’s breakfast. After powering on the stove, she went in search for the necessary items to add to the mind-blowing omelettes she proudly perfected.

“It’s Monday,” Emma remarked thoughtfully as she diced up a tomato. “I forgot what it’s like to have days of the week.”

Regina, watching the nimble knife skills in action, hummed in agreement. “When on commission it is more difficult to see our time divided up into days. Life aboard a starship is vastly different from living planetside.”

“Tell me about it.” Emma chuckled. “I remember this one time I was dropping Henry off at school. He wanted to stay after to work on some science project, so I told him I’d pick him up at fifteen hundred hours.”

Regina’s brow rose expectantly, the hint of a smile tugging at her mouth. “What did he say?”

“Nothing. He just looked up at me with this gaping expression like I’d turned into a Lacertan, scales and all.”

A hearty laugh came from Regina.

“Don’t get me wrong. He’s a smart kid and all, but sometimes I think he wants to stay young and blissfully ignorant.” Spatula twirling between her fingers, Emma considered for a moment. “Which I guess I wouldn’t mind. It’s a nice thought, isn’t it? Our kids will always be their cute selves, never leaving and seeing us through rose-colored glasses.”

Regina’s tongue tasted copper as she bit into her cheek. “I wouldn’t know now would I?”

The skillet paused its shuffling on the stove. “I-I’m sorry, Regina,” Emma murmured, facing her. “I meant nothing by it.”

“Of course not,” Regina assured with a tight smile. “Henry is always in your thoughts. If I had a child, I daresay I’d be the same way.”

Emma tugged her bottom lip between her teeth. Seeing Regina pity herself like this when she had no clue she was even doing it concerned Emma. She went back to tossing the tomatoes and peppers in the skillet and adding the egg mixture. The pan gave a satisfying sizzle and a series of pops as the liquid spread and settled. Once she turned the heat up Emma turned back around and crossed her arms over her chest.

It was a long time coming, what she wanted to say to Regina, so when her mind was settled Emma began. “You’re really good with him.” Regina looked up from her datapad. Emma couldn’t tell if she was startled by the topic or the sudden break in silence. “I don’t say it enough. Thanks.”

“For what?”

Emma shrugged. “For treating him like he’s much more than a little kid. You make him smile. You don’t shrug off his hugs and his numerous yet sloppy kisses. You make him happy and I can see that pleases you.”

Regina smiled and glanced away, blushing. “He is a pleasure to spoil.”

“You don’t get his bad side,” Emma pointed out, returning to the stove.

“I refuse to believe he is anything but an angel.” Regina tilted her head up to the superior knowledge.

“Are you kidding me? The mood swings are a killer. Forget temperamental sublight drives. Henry gets super cranky without his naps.”

Chuckling, Regina spied a glance behind her. “Speaking of, shouldn’t he be up now? He has only 45 minutes to eat and get to his first class,” she said, noting the time on her chrono.

Subsequently, Emma bellowed a long and loud, “Henry! Breakfast!” and slid the delicate omelette on a plate. She then wiggled her eyebrows at Regina, asking, “Want one? They’re my specialty.”

“That you have a specialty,” Regina quipped dryly, “and that it is related to the culinary arts is absolutely mind-boggling.”

“Well, you’re not that far off because these ditties are absolutely mind-blowing. Henry!”

“Mmyeaaah,” came a moaning voice.

Staggering into the kitchen with bed head and half-open eyes, Henry was the spitting image of his mom. Mornings definitely did not make nice with the Swans. And at the age of six, he did not easily grow out of the blue Power Rangers Cosmo Force onesie he owned.

“Can I watch cartoons while eating my omielette?” Henry asked Emma, putting every ounce of adorable into it.

Emma sighed. “Why not?” She set him up with his platted ‘omielette’ which she fashioned into a roll and nudged him out of the kitchen. “Thank you,” she urged.

“Thank you!” He raised his plate up high as if it was an offering to the gods. In passing, Henry grinned at Regina and informed her, “I roll my omielettes!”

“That’s nice,” Regina replied, scrunching her eyebrows together as she did. Who knows? Perhaps rolling one’s omelette in that fashion was indeed the way to go.

When Regina turned back to the skillet’s racket she spied a similar ear-to-ear grin on Emma. Licking her lips, she spoke up, “No cheese please.”

Snorting, Emma simply nodded and began making another one of her growingly popular specialty.

It didn’t take long for the kitchen to be infused with mouth-watering aromas. The air was heavy with the scent of butter and burnt cheese (because Emma liked the crispy bits). The smells and the presentation of a fluffy, rolled, non-cheese omelette aroused Regina’s appetite. It was almost disturbing how recent events had a tendency to mask a need like hunger.

Despite the starved need in her eyes, Regina dove into her omelette with restraint. Eyes widened upon first bite. She chewed through the fragile morsel and its accompanied tomato and green pepper. Her eyes fell closed and she nearly moaned. It was everything she never thought it would be.

“You are full of surprises, Miss Swan.”

Smiling around her forkful, Emma replied, “I gotta impress my captain somehow. If not in the line of duty then…” she smirked, intensely fixated on the length of Regina, “… in the kitchen.”

For a minute there Regina expected her to say something else, but she immediately shook off the thought and the sensation of heat rising in her face. She indicated to her datapad. “I have been going over the evidence Ren handed over.”

An unsettling pause followed. Emma frowned at the show of hesitation. “And…?”

“She was correct in suggesting this would not be easy to take in. While I do not consider myself completely blindsided, I am a bit shocked by Admiral George and his hold over the High Council.” Regina cupped her chin in her palm, staring off into a dark future. “There would be damaging consequences if we act on this information.”

Emma inclined her head. “There would be damaging consequences if we don’t.”

“I know,” Regina said softly. “Which is why I’m hesitant. You know as well as I do that this decision cannot be made lightly.”

A chime sounded from Emma’s chrono. She lifted her wrist and checked the time. “Hey, kiddo, you finished with breakfast? We got to get you to school!” Henry peaked over the back of the couch, licking his lips as a sign that breakfast was not only finished but delicious. Emma chuckled at his hair which stood up in awkward places. “Okay, change lightspeed fast, little pilot, or you’ll be late for class!”

With Regina’s help they managed to wash the dishes and wipe the countertops and stove clean with enough time to spare a walk.

Regina appreciated hovercars for all their speed and efficiency, but sometimes it was nice to stretch her legs and enjoy the weather. It also didn’t hurt to have a companion by her side and a hand in her own.

A soft smile brightened her face as did the morning sun. She looked down to Henry who was swinging his hand in hers. His cheeks were puffed out and his lips pursed. There was a stellar look of concentration etched into his face. He was trying to whistle. He had been apparently been trying for months with nothing to show for it.

Emma walked on the other side of him, a hand resting on his head and giving it a tousle every once and awhile as a means to acknowledge his efforts. When she was Henry’s age she used to expend endless hours in the mirror trying to form her mouth in the proper way to perform a clean whistle. She was now thirty years old and had yet to pick up the skill to do so.

They reached the school and each gave him a hug upon his severe insistence. The moment he disappeared through the front doors a familiar silence invited itself between Emma and Regina. They shared a glance, searching from one eye to the other but completely lost in thought. It was a moment when best laid wishes turned over in mind while their actions became a mindless backdrop – Emma with her fingers drumming on her hips and Regina smoothing a hand over her silk blouse covered abdomen.

“Want to take the long way back?” Emma asked, squinting in the sun and scratching the back of her neck.

Regina nodded.

They fell in a meandering pace beside one another. The first subject to arise was the easiest because it was a safe subject. Like Henry, it was familiar territory marked by the occasional spikes in emotion already witnessed in each other. Ren’s exposing of the Commonwealth had both of them reeling the night before. It went without saying that after sleeping on it, the next step should be to discuss what conclusions they had come to.

Of the two of them Emma had an easier time accepting the fall from grace exhibited by Cosmofleet. Call it a rebel’s intuition; she smelled trouble from a lightyear away. There was only so much Command could do to pull the wool over the public’s eyes. Despite the fleet standing as a symbol of defense and exploration, it was rife with the kind of politics Emma veered away from. Although she appreciated the people that gave her second chances galore, she couldn’t see how they led lives of career driven fools.

Image, image, image, that’s all they thought and cared about. Would they achieve admiralty by age forty? Would a new office at Headquarters be more spacious than their captain’s quarters? What time should they schedule that interview airing live tomorrow? Emma was disgusted by the fleet officers who cared more about their career path than the current mission and crew they commanded. Always thinking towards the next medal to hook on their pressed uniform.

As far as Emma was concerned Cosmofleet could burn to the ground and she wouldn’t bat an eye. However, it wasn’t like she wouldn’t miss the _Storybrooke_ and its crew. She made more friends than enemies on that ship. Harrowing endeavors, brand new landscapes, inspiring discoveries… It was all worth signing up to a stuck up, bigoted institution like Cosmofleet.

This love/hate relationship was what allowed her to feel shock as well as awe at the sudden turn of events. Everything Emma had known, everything she had been taught had been a lie. The High Council as well as Command had manipulated her. Leopold, a man she never met, bought her ticket through the academy. If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t have graduated and been assigned to the _Storybrooke_.

In the beginning, all she wanted was to be a mother to her son and travel the solar systems. Things were complicated back then. She had dreams but no way to get there. Henry had her heart but she couldn’t stay. The hours used to be so long and uncertain.

So much had changed since the _Storybrooke_ became her home. Her priorities had shifted. She wanted to hang out with Mary Margaret, tease David, and drink shots with Ruby. Disobedience took a back seat, allowing new experiences and relationships to blossom. Since she met Regina Mills, everything made sense. When they were fighting together on the _Storybrooke_ instead of against each other, when they were with Henry, when they were alone in the quietest spaces of time Emma’s life had meaning. She was happy, so why risk it all by switching sides? Why leave her son yet again to fulfill other people’s hopes and dreams?

Emma proved hesitant to take on the role of Savior and she revealed as much to Regina.

Regina was a different story. Although she held many similar preconceived notions about their government and fleet, she found it harder to accept her part. She was more self-conscious of her position not just because she was a high-ranking officer of Cosmofleet and more liable to be accused of treason, but because she was the daughter of a traitor.

Cora had been a well-respected ambassador who proved her loyalty over a decade of service. Her defection and marriage to an odious terrorist caught Regina by complete surprise. It hit her personally more so because Cora was the one person whom she thought understood her. Her mother wrote her future and planned the death of her lover and Regina would never forgive her for either of those, but Cora always knew her heart and her mind. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have been able to cause Regina that brand of heartache.

That notion of _knowing_ had been hard for her to understand as she was not a mother. What she did understand was that Cora used her knowing for ill, and Regina would be damned if she ever hurt her own child like that. The betrayal stung so intensely she continued to suffer nightmares two years later. After that shock, Regina was redefining trust and whom she placed it in.

Walking through the quaint side streets of coastal Maine, Regina confided most of these revelations to Emma. The things that took too much of her, the things that hurt (Daniel, the children Regina might never have) were kept out of discussion.

What _had_ been said managed to stun the thick-skinned Emma. Regina implored her to see reason to trust the Raiders. Although they and Emma may not have the warmest relations, it would seem they were her family now. They needed her as much as she needed them. No longer did Emma have to be the lost and unwanted child of her past.

The next thing Regina knew she was confessing things out of order. Though Emma’s promotion to first officer had been fixed, Regina believed she was suitable for the position. Maybe not from first glance, but with time and patience Emma actually grew out of her juvenile, ‘leap before looking’ phase. With the exception of a few relapses, of course.

Regina had thought about the so-called “prophecy” and the Raider’s faith in Emma as the “Chosen One” and came to a decision.

Hands clasped behind her back, Regina kept her eyes to the duracrete while striding beside Emma. “Since my capture on Quarthos I have put a lot of thought into what I have done. It is not easy to relive the past, especially when mine is so fraught with loss. It isn’t any easier to invalidate my actions against the Raiders. Some part of me still believes I acted in good conscience.”

Emma tilted her head to catch the absent expression. “But now you’re running out of reasons to justify.”

Frowning to herself, Regina searched feebly for contradiction. “Yes. Before, my enemy was a faceless party. I thought they were all senseless murderers, but I had been misled and so many innocent people have suffered because I allowed my grief to turn me into this… bitter, insatiable woman.” Regina looked to Emma who was mirroring her own guilt. “While I cannot believe I am this queen the book describes, I will not refuse forgiveness if they are willing to offer it. I cannot live with this pressing weight on my chest any longer. I need to breathe and not feel so… responsible for everything and everyone. I know I cannot simply wish away my offenses. It will take time and more reliving of my past, but I am nothing if not committed and persistent.”

“Yeah,” Emma chortled, “I’d say so.”

“So if you decide to help Anderson and his people confront the Commonwealth, the _Storybrooke_ will accompany you in this quest. It is the only way I can begin to make amends to myself and the countless families I’ve ravaged.”

Emma’s eyes blew wide as she realized Regina was bequeathing her beloved starship and crew to her.

“This is not a formal proposal,” Regina said quickly, raising a hand up to stop Emma’s train of thought. “I do not yet know how I am going to steal the _Storybrooke_ out from under Command’s nose. I’m just…” she shook her head, eyes fluttering, “I’m just thinking out loud. I suppose you have not already made up your mind about whose side you’re on, but –“

“Regina, I thought you understood. I’m on your side. I always have been.” Emma shifted on her feet, working her mouth to form the right words. “I mean, we’ve had our differences and more than enough arguments than there are stars in a square parsec of space, but I made a promise to you as your first officer and… and I hope as your friend to support you. Whether we’re in the cockpit or not, I am your copilot, Regina, and I trust your judgment.”

“That’s all fine and well, but that still doesn’t settle the question of what you are planning to do with Ren’s evidence. You cannot base your decision solely around my opinion.”

Emma smirked, challenging, “Why not?”

Grinding to a halt, Regina flushed an angry red. “Because you are a grown woman and capable of making your own decisions! I said I’d help you, but do not expect me to hold your hand through this whole blasted ordeal. This is probably the first instance that you or I are free from external manipulation. When you make your decision think of what is best for you and Henry, not for me and a million fanatics you’ve never met.”

“Okay!” Emma huffed, putting her hands roughly on her hips. “Seven hells, why so demanding?”

“Well, someone has to be! I’m taking this conspiracy seriously and you are throwing your hands up like a child. This is not another simulation you can beat through harmless stunts. There is risk involved here. One mistake and you crash and burn for good. You are playing with lives here, yours and your child’s. I know you haven’t forgotten but really Miss Swan? Must you pout like that?”

Emma held her glowering. “You’re flying off the handle about something that hasn’t happened yet.”

Scowling, Regina crossed her arms and shook her head. “It’s clear to me now how little you’ve actually grown up. I do apologize for getting ahead of myself back there.”

Emma frowned as Regina whirled around and resumed walking at a striking pace. “Where are you going?!”

“I am going back to work!” Regina shouted back, glare fixed ahead towards the Presidio.

* * *

There were many classrooms that made up Cosmofleet Academy including labs, lecture halls, gymnasiums, and hologram rooms. Emma sought out the medical complex which was one of many separate buildings composed of laboratory spaces, a faux emergency room, and surgical suites.

These classrooms simulated the hospital atmosphere complete with sterile surfaces, ammonia rich ventilation, patient dummies, and functioning equipment. The facility incorporated all the details needed to cultivate a cadet’s clinical skills.

Emma ambled down the hallway, dodging eager young cadets and preoccupied instructors. She peeked in on each room, eyes jumping from one unfamiliar face to the next until she gave up. She proceeded from room to room until she arrived at the entryway to a hospital room with rows of beds. A group of medical students were gathered around one of the beds, each hugging their model clipboards to their chests.

Emma scanned the area until her eyes fell on the mousy doctor. She always knew Mary Margaret to be the charitable type, so it wasn’t a surprise to find her substituting for one of the instructors. She was just wrapping up a CPR class and clapping ecstatically to her students’ accomplishments.

When the cadets dispersed, Mary Margaret began the mind-numbing task of resupplying the surgical carts. Stealthily, Emma hopped up on the nearest bed. She soon discovered that the space was occupied. She quirked a brow at the open-mouthed dummy positioned on his back and nudged him over so she could get comfortable.

She smiled at her friend and hailed with a chipper voice, “Hey, doc.”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret greeted with slight surprise. “How did you know I’d be here?”

“There aren’t many places a Type A medical doctor can hide,” Emma pointed out, swinging her legs jubilantly. “I tried the lab, but David said he hadn’t seen you since we returned from Quarthos.” She gestured plainly to their surroundings. “Found you.”

“I see that. What else did David say?” Mary Margaret inquired, fluttering her eyes.

Emma chuckled at her friend’s transparency. The doctor could perform an appendectomy in a gyrating cockpit, but crashed and burned when it came to disguising truthful aims. “If you want to ask him out you better do it quick,” she advised with a smirk. “David’s a popular guy of late.”

Mary Margaret cocked her head. “What do you mean?”

“Just that he possesses qualities that appeal to a variety of… classes. Nice guys like him have a line of admirers leading out the hatchway. He’s not going to wait for you forever.”

“… Oh.” A furious pale came over Mary Margaret. Her mind wracked as she threw her hands into something busy like lining up instruments in order of size. “I suppose it wasn’t meant to be. I’m too overworked anyway to engage in personal liaisons. It would be disruptive to the ship’s functionality.” She nodded firmly in conclusion.

“You sound pretty certain.”

“That is because I am. I am a certain person.”

“Well, great. As long as you don’t plan to dissolve _our_ personal, platonic liaisons I’ll support you in whatever.”

Emma received a vague smile in return. The doctor appeared to be preoccupied with other matters, hopefully medical related ones.

A niggling concern affected Emma as she sat there. She knew David had set his sights elsewhere and she was hesitant to inform Mary Margaret of the development. It might blast her ego to smithereens and further discourage her from any future romantic pursuits if she did. And yet Emma saw this turn of events from a lightyear away. Any observant person would have.

A hand concealed the ever-growing grin on Emma’s face. She may have been a bit hasty in poking fun at her friend’s measured outlook on romance, but it was awfully amusing to see her so flustered.

“Is there anything in particular you wanted to discuss?” asked Mary Margaret, giving Emma her full attention.

“Um, well, I did think we should talk. We didn’t really get a chance to catch up since I returned to my position aboard _Storybrooke_.”

Emma neglected to mention the two-year separation and her sudden reappearance. That little detail, of course, was left out on purpose. Call it self-preservation, but there were some things that hit too close to home. Mary Margaret may be her best friend but they weren’t partial to approaching the waters of deep, sensitive emotions (at least on Emma’s part). The doctor never held that against her and that’s why their friendship worked.

Sensing the unsaid concern in Emma’s silence, Mary Margaret reached out to squeeze the hunched shoulder. “If you’re worried about what I think of you, please do no such thing. Whatever reason you had for resigning your post I’m sure it was justified. You never have to explain yourself to me, Emma. I would trust you with my life. That’s what friends are for.”

“So you don’t resent me or anything for ditching?”

“I would have preferred the occasional transmission, but I figured you needed your space.”

“You waited for two years, Mary Margaret. I should never have put you in that position.”

“It’s in the past,” she assured. “Come on. Be a good friend and help me move this dummy.”

Quirking a smile, Emma hopped off the bed. “Vaporize me,” she mumbled, heaving the dead weight John Doe into her arms. “This guy weighs a ton!”

“Really, Emma. What are all those calisthenics for if you can’t carry an unconscious crew member across the room?”

Emma gave out something hallway between an amused snort and a wheeze. She shuffled towards the large broom closet and dumped the patient on top of his cohorts with little sympathy or bedside manner.

Mary Margaret indicated her disapproval with a tut.

Catching her breath, Emma dusted off her hands. She grinned suspiciously and asked, “So we’re good?”

“We’re good.”

Emma blew out a breath. The tension she carried in her shoulders for months (maybe even for those two long years) was siphoned away by Mary Margaret’s good natured smile. She’d been worrying about the state of their friendship ever since Regina dragged her back. The last thing she wanted to do was sabotage her one and only long-time relationship (barring Henry).

Mary Margaret indicated to the other bed occupied by yet another dead weight dummy.

“Another?” Emma burst out with a bit of a whine.

“If you would.”

In the midst of her back starting to spasm from her hustle back and forth, Emma debated how far she wanted to confide in her best friend. Since her discussion with Regina she’d been having some doubts about whom to align with. Although she promised her captain that such dangerous information would stay between the two of them, Emma needed a second opinion. Considering how hastily they parted, Emma wasn’t willing to drudge up the issue again with Regina. That left Mary Margaret.

“Can I ask you something?”

Rising from her clipboard, Mary Margaret’s eyes softened before the obviously troubled Emma. “Of course. What’s it have to do with? Is it Regina again?”

“I –“ Emma did a double take. “Wait, why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. I’m just throwing it out there.”

“Who are you and what have you done with my friend? Mary Margaret doesn’t just… throw stuff out there, not unless there’s an ulterior motive.”

“Nonsense. No ulterior motive,” Mary Margaret assured, holding her hands up. “Now can you please tell me what is troubling you?”

“It has to do with my time at the academy. Out of everyone I could talk to about this, you’re the only one that knew me in those days.”

Mary Margaret began a slow nod. Based on Emma’s hesitation and clear lack of self-confidence sagging her shoulders, she gathered what direction this was going in. She nibbled absently at her lips and wrung her hands as she scrounged up the courage. “That’s not the only reason,” she began with a wince. “You remember I joined you and Regina in boarding Xelphi Six. Well, I also was present when Cora and Leopold revealed their influence in your life. I won’t speak for the captain, but I did know that your graduation was fixed and I purposefully kept that from you.” Mary Margaret huffed to herself suddenly and grabbed at her forehead with both hands. “Oh, gods, you must hate me!”

Nodding solemnly, Emma stared down at the next dummy-for-transport. “I had a feeling.”

Mary Margaret gapped. She had fret over this moment ever since Xelphi Six. “You did?”

“Whenever I approached a topic even remotely related to our time on that station you ended up all flustered. It’s like your circuits went haywire and you needed to excuse yourself for a tune up. Same thing with Regina, only she just barked orders at me and stomped off like her usual insufferable self.” Emma shrugged, looking anywhere but the doctor’s pity. “I figured you guys were hiding something from me. You were protecting me and I get that.”

“That’s no excuse. You trust us, Emma, and we blasted that trust to space dust.”

Emma exhausted a loud sigh and sagged to the bed. By the time her eyes met Mary Margaret’s they were filled with pleading. “Do you think I wasn’t good enough?”

“For what? The fleet?”

At a loss for a simple answer, Emma threw up her hands and replied, “Everything.”

And she proceeded to confess everything; from the prophecy and Admiral George’s empire to her feelings about Regina’s capture.

Mary Margaret hand felt behind her for something sturdy to fall back on. Her fingers met cold steel so she supported her weight on the cart for a time. Her astonishment didn’t last long. It wasn’t all she expected, and yet somehow she did see most of it coming. Her father warned her of the incoming war, after all. And Emma always did seem to possess an obligation to the captain’s wellbeing.

“So let me get this straight,” she declared, “you’re feeling a sense of inadequacy because a decision made seven years ago, a decision you had no control over, led to your ill assigned promotion to first officer. Not only that but after proving yourself under Regina’s command, you continue to question your value.”

“Um…”

“And all those people, Emma. All those people who believe you are their Chosen One want you to succeed. They are willing to do anything to assist you and you ask me if they have this prophecy backwards? How on Earth could I disagree when you are the only person in the galaxy I’d trust to save it?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, it’s a lot of pressure for one person to take.”

“Oh, grow up Emma Swan,” she snapped. Her hands flew to her hips and her chin turned down in reprimand. “We’ve been friends for a long time and I have never known you to cave under expectations. You used to laugh at them and zap them with your blaster!”

Emma eyed her like she was twenty years out of space dock. “This is a little different, Mary Margaret.”

“So adapt. That’s what you’re good at, isn’t it? You grew up in foster home after foster home, getting passed around like yesterday’s subdermal bioprobe and look at you now! That’s adapting.”

“Subdermal bioprobe?” Emma’s face soured. “Bad example, doc.”

“You left your dream job to be with your child and work a thankless job as an airship mechanic. As much as I didn’t agree with that life choice I will use it as further example of your fine skills in adapting to pressure. You _are_ good enough, Emma. You just don’t know it yet.”

“So what do you suggest? I wait it out until it smacks me in the face?”

“Well,” Mary Margaret drawled, the hint of a smirk forming, “that’s what Regina would suggest. I would have you follow a path that does not end with you in my sickbay.”

Emma deadpanned. “That’s not vague at all. Lay it out for me like I’m twelve.”

“I usually do.” That earned her a scowl and Mary Margaret had to suppress her laughter before clarifying. ”My advice would be to forget about what everyone wants from you. What do you want from yourself? Do you want to continue as first officer in service to Cosmofleet? Can you do that knowing their part in eradicating innocent Freedom Raiders? What do your instincts say about Admiral George’s behavior? Can you trust him and the Commonwealth? Not do the Raiders or Regina or I trust them, but _you._ ”

As Emma mulled it over, the doctor lowered herself beside her friend. She folded her hands in her lap, tipping her head to see if Emma was following. “The most important question every intelligent species is faced with is ‘Who am I?’ It is the only question that matters.” She stared ahead into the distance between present time and future space. “We must look inward at our own selves in order to determine our place in the universe. We have to take our personal relationships into account, our experiences. Our past is just as important in determining our future.” Mary Margaret looked back to Emma who was staring into the floor. The doctor smiled softly and in a tender voice said, “Forget what you have always been told, Emma. Forget how you were told to say and do things, even if that’s the way they’ve always been done, and without individual expression.”

Emma sat there quietly for a few minutes while Mary Margaret kept her company. She allowed her friend to be alone with her thoughts, hoping she did the right thing. Emma wasn’t normally prone to this kind of existential advice and was more liable to shoot it down than take it to heart. But the knot presenting in her brow and the fidgeting her chrono sustained told Mary Margaret that she was contemplating.

“That’s some philosophical talk coming from a medical doctor. I thought you guys only dealt in biological research and vibroscalpels.”

“Would you prefer the medical version? I’m sure I could rustle up an Endosian slug as a metaphorical demonstration.”

Shuddering and already pale to the tips of her ears, Emma shook her head. “No, no. Thanks. I’m good.”

Laughing her nerves away, Emma soon experienced a breeze of relief. It was comforting to confide in someone she shared a history with. She missed these little chats with Mary Margaret more than she ever thought.

Bounding off the bed with renewed vigor, Emma set back to work. A total of six dummies were transported from their beds to the closet. It was the very definition of back breaking work. It probably would have gotten done without the batting eyes but Mary Margaret liked drama.

Soon the classroom-turned-ER’s peace was disturbed by hustle and bustle. Another group of cadets piled in. Their entrance triggered the nerves in Mary Margaret. She began to move about the surgical carts for her next class. Her eyes were wild and her hands moved like flustered appendages. Anyone who didn’t know her as well as Emma did would have mistaken the behavior for nervousness.

“You really like teaching don’t you?” Emma asked. She smiled at the doctor flitting about like a solar storm.

“Oh, it is so rewarding!” Mary Margaret gasped, already out of breath. “I never thought I would, but I just love seeing their faces light up whenever they understand a lesson. They’re all so young and determined for the future.”

“You don’t get, like, annoyed sometimes?”

Mary Margaret’s expression approached horrified. “Why would I ever get annoyed?”

“Well…” Emma cut herself off from an account of unruly young adults who asked too many questions or not enough, who attend the course just because it satisfied a requirement, who played games on their datapads instead of copying notes. An observation all courtesy of her own personal experience as an annoying cadet. “Nevermind. You seem like you enjoy it. I’m sure it helps that you’re as patient as durofill.”

Mary Margaret chuckled. “I’m not familiar with that reference but I’ll take it as a compliment. I do enjoy teaching, you’re right. But it’s not like I’m not grateful to be chief medical officer, and under the command of Captain Mills, no less! It’s every officer’s dream to work for her.”

“Still admire the captain I see. Even after your stint in _Storybrooke’s_ brig,” Emma added with a bitter taste in her mouth. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand what you in particular respect about her.”

“You know I never blamed Regina for that incident. She was only acting as a captain should. And yes, I stand by Regina as much as I did the day I boarded her ship. I feel that she has been misrepresented by those whose sole objective is to ruin her image. Think about it: the captain is a success story, the finest graduate the academy has turned out in decades. Many people resent her for it.”

Emma laughed. “By ‘people’ you mean men?”

“Not entirely. There are females, too, who would just as well magnify her failures in order to level the playing field.”

“So the honorable doctor doesn’t believe in a fair competition?”

“It’s not about fairness. They dislike her because she’s better than them. It’s as simple as that.”

Emma nodded to the sentiment. “That makes two of us.”

A cadet approached and tapped the doctor on the shoulder. The girl, looking about as mousy and Type A as her instructor, apologized for interrupting and asked the doctor if she needed help in setting up the specimens. A wide smile split Mary Margaret’s face at the girl’s consideration and she advised her to proceed.

Watching in awe as the eager young cadet began, Mary Margaret pressed her hands together, their tips grazing her chin. She did a little clap before turning back to Emma.

“After my years in residency and service aboard a fleet vessel it’s so gratifying to finally give back. Emma, I’m _molding_ future generations!”

Emma’s head jerked back to avoid the flames of blazing resolve. “Okay. Just… can you do something for me?”

“Anything. Emma, you’re my best friend.”

Emma scratched her cheek to distract herself from smiling overtly. “Good, well, here’s the thing… Can you tone down the enthusiasm? I’m afraid you’re going to scare away your students with those eyes.”

“What’s wrong with my eyes?”

“They’re all wide and intense looking. Fiery gaze-like.”

“Oh.”

Smiling, Emma gave a little shake of her head at the doctor’s antics. She slid her hands into her pockets and left her to it.

The second she disappeared out the hatch Mary Margaret whirled around to snag a large scalpel from the cart and lifted it to her face to inspect the reflection of her “fiery gaze.”

*** * ***

Regina found nothing of use in distracting her from her recent exchange with Emma. She spent a few hours at her desk filling out reports, reading Leroy’s proposals to improve reactor output, and signing off on several of those common yet pesky conflict resolutions between crewmembers.

There was also damage control to be done with Kathryn who left a transmission with her that morning offering to take her out to lunch. Actually, she implied it more as a demand than an offer. They hadn’t spoken since before Quarthos and she demanded to know how she was coping after the ordeal.

A soft smile arose as Regina listened to the voicemail. Kathryn could be kind and gentle one minute and then authoritative and pushy the next. The only thing that didn’t change was her concern. She was the most supportive friend Regina could ask for. Even if she didn’t want Kathryn butting in, she was most definitely sure she would shove her way into her graces anyway.

Lunch with Kathryn did little to sweep away her anxieties. An elegant Greek salad and iced tea only went so far in quelling the reality of what was going on around them. It only bothered Regina further that she had to keep it all from her friend.

She could not even bring herself to disclose the sting of disappointment brought on earlier. She and Emma had been getting along so well. They were making headway in their plans to aid the Freedom Raiders, talking out their indecision, and coming to logical conclusions. For once they were actually discussing an issue rather than arguing about it. But then it all blew up in their faces. Emma just _had_ to revert back to her old self.

Regina scolded herself for overestimating her first officer. Emma would never change. She would always be in a perpetual state of unripened maturity. She was incapable of making a decision for herself. It’s probably why she relinquished the captain’s chair so quickly upon Regina’s return from Quarthos. Emma had no plans to exceed the rank of Lieutenant Commander. Ambition did not move her, the idea of commanding her own ship hardly roused her interest. Emma wasn’t the kind of person to make plans, more likely to fly at the seat of her pants with arms wide open and an idiot grin on her face.

When Regina arrived back at the Swan household she realized she had no means of entering. Hesitation stayed her hand, the knuckles aimed to knock. Why was she doing this to herself? Again? Especially after her argument with Emma?

The long day had caught up with her and she still felt too weak to drag her feet to the nearest hotel. She settled for charity and let her fist strike the door. It opened to reveal a young man about Emma’s age. His piercing blue eyes looked her over in a manner Regina intended to seethe at, but suddenly the pair of eyes flashed with recognition.

“Oh, stellar,” he gasped, continuing to ogle her. “Regina Mills, I presume.”

Regina stared at the outstretched hand and back at the unidentified man in Emma’s apartment. “You have me at a disadvantage, Mr….?”

“Excuse my rudeness. It’s Booth. August W. Booth. The ‘W’ stands for Wayne.”

Regina hummed in acknowledgment, but made no move to take his hand. Her hands were still clasped together in front of her person while she commenced a scrutiny of the highest degree. “You must be the babysitter,” she said in a slightly mocking fashion.

August didn’t seem to mind. He peered carefully through her. “Wow, Emma wasn’t kidding.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s just, I never thought I’d see you in the flesh – in person, I mean. I only know you’re hologram self – the news reports, the simulation holos, that sort of thing. You’re all they talked about at academy. Let me just say, it is an honor to meet you, Commander. Emma’s told me a lot about you.”

“Yes.” Lips puckering to stifle her sneer, Regina narrowed her eyes. “You mentioned that. What exactly did she have to say?”

“You say that like you expect for me to write a report on it.” His laughter caught her off guard. In spite of how comical her offense displayed, August had a feeling Emma would take the brunt of punishment in this case. He surged back and ushered her inside. “Please, come in. I’ll tell you all about it.”

Against the scruff and her better judgment, Regina conceded. The door sealed shut behind her and she began to feel a tad uneasy. She was in a house with someone she had never met but whom clearly knew her.

Her hair flew with the twists of her head. “Where is Henry?” she demanded, her heart rate spiking. No child of six instigated silence unless they were glued to a holoprogram, unconscious, or… Regina did not want to finish that thought.

“Taking a nap,” August replied, gesturing to the boy’s bedroom which he’d left open a crack to alert him of any possible distress. He smiled. “You think Emma would leave her own son with someone she didn’t trust?”

Regina’s glare held long enough to sear through solid durasteel. “It’s happened before.”

“Well, you’re here now, so what could go wrong?”

The dig rolled off him easily. Blinking with stupefaction, Regina recognized it as a trait often presented in her first officer. Emma could roll with her punches just as adequately as August demonstrated. It was a bit unsettling; Regina just met August and already she felt an awareness of him through Emma. They must have been close, albeit foster siblings to share such uncanny behavior. Adaptability was not a common quality these days.

She rolled her eyes, backing off. She could see why Emma chose this man as a friend. He was coarse, presumptuous, and dressed like one of those drag racers from the Dresden Air Strip. His arms swung as he walked, conceivably drawing women and men alike to the well-formed jeans. His hands were those of a working class, but his eyes were sharp and he possessed a quick tongue. His appearance was nothing to transmit home about, yet there was a subtle handsomeness under all that bravado. She could not deny it.

At the sense that his ego was getting a fluffing, Regina quickly flicked her eyes off him in a slight roll. She could not admit to seeing anything of importance in August, but she’d allow Emma her friends. As long as they posed no harm to Henry.

Clearing her throat, she raised her eyebrows expectantly. “So…”

“Right. You want a report on the gossip.”

Regina inclined her head and set him straight. “I would like to know what is so fascinating about me that has my senior officer running her mouth to the nearest scoundrel.”

Laughter rang throughout the kitchen as August rummaged in a cabinet. He extracted two glasses and a something else Regina couldn’t see. When he turned he had a bottle of fire whiskey in one hand. He held it up to preposition her.

Regina shook her head and sat in one of the bar stools.

He slid over a glass filled with water and poured his own with the liquor. He watched the whiskey trickle in slowly as he told her, “Guess I’m a guilty scoundrel. This stuff is lethal.”

She approved of his manners by accepting the glass of water. She pointed out, “This is not your kitchen.” She subsequently shook her head at her defending this man, the scoundrel.

“True, but Emma received the fire whiskey from me. It was a birthday present.”

“Miss Swan accepts cheap, potentially toxic alcohol as a gift?”

August didn’t answer right away. His lips turned white as he thinned them and he stared down into the drink in his hand. “It was a bad year,” he replied finally, not giving Regina much from his expression. “She would have accepted anything – rotgut or otherwise.”

Regina was rendered speechless. She bit the inside of her cheek in reprimand. Assumptions were risks taken by the impatient or uncaring (and Regina was not the latter when it came to one Swan or the other). There was a lot she didn’t know about Emma. Personnel files only outlined so much. They didn’t go beyond academy records and professional reports. If Emma had a criminal background her records were sealed by the court system. Even as her commanding officer, Regina did not have the power to supersede confidentiality in viewing her psychological evaluations.

She knew nothing of Emma’s past or of Henry’s for that matter. She was just as much a stranger to Emma than the man drinking her whiskey.

Clearing his throat, August threw back his drink and took it in one impressive gulp. The glass settled gentle back down on the counter with a clink. His tight smile proposed they move on to another subject. Regina was in swift agreement, although she had a feeling Emma’s past would always be there with them, at the back of their minds crawling for the forefront every once and a while.

August took the next half hour to regale his guest of his and Emma’s history. He spoke of their friendship throughout their time at Cosmofleet Academy and how they supported each other; he rewriting her essays and she taking an extra hour with him in the cockpit. They were as close as any two platonic friends could be. Whenever another one of his relationships failed she was the one who ordered pizza and movie marathons.

Emma had showed him kindness he didn’t deserve, but then that’s the kind of person she was. All her life people where telling her who she was, what she could and couldn’t do, and what did Emma do? She pushed back and proved them wrong. August had told her time and again he wasn’t worth the trouble, but Emma never did listen.

Likewise, August was there to back up Emma in every fight at the White Rabbit. Whether she instigated it or not, he always gave her the benefit of the doubt. The break ups were the worst. They may have been few and far between but when they ended they ended hard. Her only remedy was a round with the gloves. When people got too close to Emma he was there to pick up the pieces in the boxing ring at the academy gymnasium.

Fighting had always been a cathartic experience for her, but fast cars were the be-all and end-all. It didn’t surprise Regina to know Emma had a hot streak as a DK in her time. She had known her first officer to pilot anything from a shuttlecraft to one of the starfighters collecting dust in _Storybrooke’s_ hanger. August said the “Drag King” title lasted as long as Emma could keep her fists out of the races. No one liked their own authority challenged any more than Regina did, but when a cocky upstart in a Nissan SkylineHover gave Emma the slip it all went supernova in her face. Of course it wasn’t her fault their _tsuiso_ nicked a cop car. When they power slid down the air strip, door-to-door, it was her opponent’s rear bumper that did it, but Emma caught the wrap for it.

August admitted to his friend’s short temper back in those days, but she had respect for competition. She was fair and honest to any kid who dared test her chops. She may have lost her title in the end and spent a few nights in jail, but boy could she make a hovercar drift like a thing of beauty.

Regina found herself enthralled by these stories. They were as revealing and heart pounding as the woman herself. But then she was the center of them all, every story delving deeper into the mystery of Emma Swan. Regina wondered if August meant to devote the entire time accounting the life of his best friend. Intentional or not, Regina didn’t care. She got to know Emma without having to ask, without breaking her code of professionalism. She could understand who Emma was through these stories and no one would be the wiser.

August accounted for their years after graduation and the sparse transmissions shared between two friends. They lost track of each other for a little while until one cold, rainy day when Emma showed up, hand-in-hand with a child of striking similarity to her. Suddenly, all those times Emma averted interrogation about where she ran off to after class and why she worked three jobs made sense. It didn’t matter so much anymore. Emma didn’t have to explain herself. From then on it was as if nothing had changed – nothing, that is, but one more dinner setting and an extra wingman to help “pick up chicks.”

Without having to press for details, Regina was filled in on all the gossip August had been told. Emma wasted no details in recounting her adventures as a Cosmofleet first officer. Her time aboard the _Storybrooke_ was a time of reflection where she learned about herself and the kind of person she wanted to be. She told August (and, as an indirect result, Regina) of her favorite missions, the most exotic and treacherous locales, the people she befriended, and the enemies she traded scars with. Most importantly, she delighted in shining a light on her famous and enigmatic captain.

Regina smiled awkwardly amid the praise. Most of it was true, she gave Emma that much. Some of it had been exaggerated, painting her as this heroine in durasteel armor. Regina knew all too well how her glares could turn sniveling fools to stone, but make hearts melt and minds soar? Either Emma was a repressed poet or August liked to inject a bit of whimsy in his storytelling. After all, he was on the fast track to getting his first novel published.

Regina had no idea she was capable of being soft with anyone but Henry, but maybe she was wrong. Maybe she had made a _few_ hearts melt. The thought triggered a bit of rosy to the captain’s cheeks.

“Are there any ill feelings between you and Emma since hearing about Henry?” Regina asked.

“Nope. She allows me to be a part of his life and that’s the only thing I can think of that puts things right. You have to understand, Commander Mills, when Emma and I met at the academy we were orphans. We had no one but each other and that’s how it always was. Family forgives. I love Emma like she’s my sister. She _is_ my sister and I will always forgive her, even if she did keep me from my little nephew all those years.”

“Mm, and Henry’s father?” she asked, waiting with interest and a bit of trepidation.

“When you get to know Emma, which I’m sure you have, you get a sixth sense about what is and is not up for discussion.” He shrugged. “The father isn’t around and I get the feeling Emma prefers it that way. I mean, if he wasn’t willing to stick around I’d say it’s better he didn’t. Emma and Henry have a good thing going. It would do more harm than not to have some stranger show up out of the blue.”

“Well, Henry seems to already have an acceptable male figure in his life.”

It left Regina’s mouth before she could blink. August was the first to exhibit shock.

“Wow, acceptable, huh?” He gave a cocky smile, eyes sparkling. “That must be a compliment. Emma said you were pretty abrasive with your compliments.”

Blushing, Regina scolded him with a click of her tongue. It was halfheartedly carried out, of course. Her lips betrayed her amusement with a little smirk. She was spending too much time around Emma if she was falling for this kind of humor.

“By the way, Emma invited me to stay for dinner,” August said. He returned the whiskey bottle to its rightful place high up in one of the cabinets before pulling out pots and pans. “Since she’s still out I guess it’s up to me to scrounge up a meal. Any requests?”

Frowning, Regina suddenly felt an overwhelming feeling like she was intruding. The idea of sitting with this family for supper triggered an indescribable ache in her chest. Anyway, it was a wake-up call to this odd living situation.

“Whatever is fine,” she replied flippantly. Distracted by her own doubts, Regina rose from the stool and turned for the door. “Perhaps I should go.” Her voice carried little weight of surety. In fact, she had never been so unsure in her life. Where was she meant to be? Who was she supposed to spend her hours with? It was five o’clock in the evening. Where did she belong?

“Please don’t go!” August rushed to cut off her escape. He raised his hand up as a means to assure her that this was a safe place with no doubts, expectations, or ill feelings. We’re all friends here, said his tentative smile. “It would crush Henry. He’s been waiting all day for you to come home and play with him. He tuckered himself out watching from the window.” August detected the battle being lost within Regina and he dove in to finish the job. “You should probably be the one to wake him up from his nap.” He reached up to gently prod his nose with the tips of his fingers. “Last time my nose got socked by his little fist. Heavy sleeper that kid.”

Regina chuckled a little at his nursing his battle wound. She had wondered where that purplish bruise on the side of his nose came from.

He tilted his head and delivered in a solemn tone, “Emma would be upset to find you gone. After everything you’ve done for her, she really wants to return the favor.”

Softening at the thought, Regina relented. “For Henry.”

August suppressed a grin. He nodded, returning to the kitchen with arms swinging. “For Henry!”

* * *

Henry roused nonviolently by the gentle stroking of fingers to his cheek. Heavy lids fluttered under the quiet presence of the woman sitting beside him on the bed. When the identity of his visitor registered, his eyes flew open. Any hint of drowsiness vanished.

“Regina!” he hollered and scooted up in bed so fast it was as if he ran on rocket fuel. “You come to play with me?”

Regina smiled thoughtfully on the speed at which he beamed at her. It didn’t bother her anymore to see Emma’s wide-eyed expression on his face. The two years they had missed were kind to Henry who was growing into a handsome, though somewhat lanky school-aged child.

She no longer felt guilt at expressing joy before a face still similar as ever to his mother’s. If anything, her acceptance of it made her heart beat ever faster.

“Yes, sweetheart.” Regina smile grew wider as Henry started to vibrate with energy. His whole appearance was a bit haphazard from his nap, which seemed to make him just as adorable. She reflexively went out to straighten the front collar and buttons on his shirt. “Your Uncle August says you have a new game to show me.”

Too thrilled to express words, his mouth opened in a breathy little gasp. He immediately scrambled from the bed and started rummaging in his play crates to retrieve the controllers.

“Momma doesn’t like playing sim games. She says they’re too _sim-u-lat-ed_. I don’t think so.” He continued his babbling, bent over his toys, while Regina looked on with amusement in her eyes. “Momma says the levels aren’t like real flying. _Real_ flying is fun. I think she doesn’t play with me because she thinks I’m too easy to beat.”

Lowering herself to the floor, Regina made her selection from the various controllers. Scrutinizing them with a keen eye, she remarked, “Yes, well, _Momma_ hasn’t played with me.”

Pausing in his tinkering, Henry’s head rose to catch the wicked smirk. That the captain challenged his own mother had him beset with giggles. His amusement continued as long as it took for her to challenge him to a Yeager loop around Saturn’s rings. That certainly changed the tone. With each of them fixing serious expressions, they slipped on their respective visors and entered game mode.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, backs resting against the bed, Regina and Henry took turns one-upping each other in the sim. They discussed various subjects while in game mode: the books he read, first grade anxieties, where on Earth he’s going to find room for all those stuffed animals he’d accumulated the six whole years of his life.

It was all very light and diverting until Henry brought up his mother. Unbeknownst to him, the topic of Emma always had Regina feeling a little rattled and insecure, especially when Henry talked about her. The boy had this magical image of his mother as a pilot and a hero; it was how most children at that age saw their parents. Personally, Regina couldn’t admit to the same. Cora drilled into her at an early age how error-prone and foolish humanoids could be. She had been a budding pessimist, Regina Mills.

It all started when she had asked him about his watching holovids of her academy simulations. Henry surprised Regina by revealed the same about Emma. She watched with him even when she thought he wasn’t looking. Henry thought it was kind of silly, an adult following the holovids of her captain. Why didn’t she just go to the source and ask Regina about her techniques and war strategies?

It got stranger when Henry exposed his mom as some kind of Regina Mills enthusiast. Back in her academy days she ravenously ate up Regina’s holovids, soaking up all the tricks of her flying and discipline sims. She memorized every strategy, every victory, and dissected every command.

Yes, Regina found it silly as well, and a bit disturbing. Why indeed hadn’t Emma simply inquired after her sims? Why keep her admiration from a woman who clearly thrived on it? It did make sense, though, why not. If Regina was honest with herself she probably would have thrown Emma off her ship if she displayed any symptoms of hero worship or admitted to stalking her academy records. That kind of thing was _Sidney Glass Category: Creepy_ and grounds for suspension in Regina’s book.

Rattled and unsure what to be feeling in that moment, Regina steered conversation towards a lighter topic – Tosche, the stuffed polar bear Henry was all too happy to talk about.

With Henry chatting in the background, Regina fell into tumultuous thought. She continued to turn over the fresh news against her better judgment. She knew she shouldn’t dwell on it, but it couldn’t be helped. Emma’s little obsession seemed to endure even after their working together and that struck Regina as significant. Could it be that Emma had hidden her adoration all this time? Was she ashamed of herself? Did she resign Cosmofleet because of it?

Whatever the reason, Regina now had the evidence to detect the signs. Emma could hide from her no longer.


	10. Chapter 10

Under normal circumstances Regina had no anxieties about standing before the admirals. She was as proud in stature as she was in her deeds. If ever a tremulous moment came all she had to do was lift her chin high and speak with that razor edge confidence she had been known to use with her crew. No one else dared stand and speak with that kind of defiance, not in front of their superiors and definitely not before Command. But Regina didn’t fear the admirals. She knew her experience in the field may not have reached the heights of ones such as Admiral Hopper and Admiral George, but she knew her value. They needed her expertise and her daring as much as she needed them to keep her in command.

But these were not normal circumstances. These circumstances brought out the first instance that confidence slipped through Regina’s fingertips. It was the first time she had been made to sweat under pressure. The novel experience elicited a shudder deep enough within her that she could conceal any outward signs of her vulnerability. Any visible signs of capitulation would damn her and her sterling reputation.

A special tribunal convened on the second week the _Storybrooke_ and its crew had been grounded. In their prior debriefing, Emma and Regina had already filled Command in on everything they knew (or were willing to reveal). Cosmofleet had been apprised of the situation on Quarthos and a possible incursion on Earth. As a result, the Presidio was on high alert. Armed guards patrolled the embassies and corridors, streets and transport stations.

Galactic Transportation Security Administration, also known as GTSA, was assigned to resume their “Behavior Detection Program.” This controversial program targeted suspected terrorists and undocumented immigrants using a list of ‘suspicious signs.’ Officers were ordered to detain these individuals and hold them under rigorous questioning.

The presence of armed guards and the initiation of GTSA’s screening process triggered overwhelming tension between the people and its government. Species profiling was not popular upon its initiation over a decade ago and now that it had returned it was just as much a source of uneasiness. The holonews could only do so much for Admiral George’s billion credits. No amount of reassurance could quell the public. It would seem the age old tactic of “blame the Raiders” had long expired.

Such mounting anxiety kept Command and the High Council busy. Spurred by the public’s unrest and the looming threat from the Outer Reaches, they finally decided to move forward.

Because of Regina’s suspected activities in the Outer Reaches she was called before the special tribunal. Its purpose was to investigate the captain’s claims relating to the Freedom Raiders and the events that led to her capture on Quarthos. Many officials were in dispute over how and why one of their own intelligence officers, Sidney Glass, defected.

There was nothing criminal surrounding this request, but Regina knew better than to trust their phony assurances. If Ren’s evidence held any shred of truth, Admiral George knew more about what Regina had been up to in the Outer Reaches than her reports suggested. If George was as influential as she had been told, the tribunal would be a witch hunt in disguise.

Sitting regal in her round, balconied repulsor pod, Regina drifted for the center of the Council Rotunda. The tiered chamber held one hundred pods which were locked into the sloping walls. When someone wished to approach the floor they detached and floated gently towards the center.

The hovercams, which normally operated during Council proceedings, were shut down for this special tribunal. In addition, only 25 seats were filled instead of the usual 100 occupied by senators and their aides. Despite the low-key gathering, the purpose for such a tribunal and its urgency had not been dimmed.

When Regina’s pod came to a halt she tried not to tremble before the eyes. The Council was a legislature seating 25 representatives from Commonwealth planets. They were mostly male, human, and docile under the shadow of Admiral George’s authority.

She stood in her pressed captain’s uniform, thrusting back her shoulders as she did so. This would not be like the meetings of previous times. There in the rotunda she was not only before the highest authorities of Cosmofleet Command, but the entirety of the High Council as well. A captain even of Regina’s stature was rarely granted the opportunity.

Her fingers contracted to the tingle running down them. She could feel her durasteel confidence slipping, and the hearing had not yet begun.

A low hum sounded from beside her. She turned slightly to see another repulsor pod floating in beside her. The pod’s resident came in the form of the highest-ranking admiral and bona fide pretender, Albert George. He served as the ‘prosecution’ in this showpiece.

Regina’s eyes darkened with scorn. She nearly laughed at the irony. The tribunal was every bit the theatre George expected it to be. He could skirt due process, of course, and have Regina court marshaled with the Council’s full cooperation, but Regina knew better than to think George didn’t like a bit of entertainment with this brand of character assassination.

She should have seen it coming – the final verdict, the pressing unease, the humiliation – but his revolting amusement preoccupied most of her boiling focus.

The whirlwind of nerves Regina was experiencing dashed like atoms in a Hadron Collider. She could barely follow the proceedings. It all happened so fast. She could feel the eyes of her senior officers shifting with concern. If she could see them, if they were beside her as she furtively desired them to be instead of in the rear wings of the rotunda, her confidence may have received a boost. But this was not about them and Regina would not allow them to get caught in the flames of Admiral George’s designs. Her career was at stake, not David’s and Ruby’s, not Belle’s and Rumple's, and not even Emma’s.

During the hearing her decisions as a commander were taken under examination. It was not enough that the prosecution questioned her methods apprehending Raiders; he had to present evidence of her corruptibility. The statements made by her crewmembers, revealed in recorded holograms, were extracted under duress. Regina had no doubt about it. She may have given her crew reason to hate her and even rebel against her, but they were much more loyal these days. She handpicked each and every one of them according to her own expectations. They risked their lives for her as she did for them.

Thus the statements directed against her stirred a growl in her chest. No one threatened her people without answering to her. No one leveled grievances against her command unless she was there to experience the truth of it in their eyes. As George replayed the last holo, Regina could see nothing in the young engineer’s eyes but guilt.  

The only way George could render her a liability to Cosmofleet was by drawing attention to the strained relationship between her and her crew. It was working.

“Next we come to the Raiders,” Admiral George said. Facing the High Council, he brandished before them a datapad. “I have a sworn statement signed by the commander herself. This was signed two days ago during her debriefing. In it she claims no association with the terrorist group known as the Freedom Raiders. She valiantly defends herself and her crewmembers and insists that there is no possible link between _Storybrooke’s_ past and the Raiders. Everything recorded in her Captain’s Logs, which you all possess a copy of before you now, is comprehensive. Nothing missing, nothing forgotten.”

In the stands, listening amongst his fellow admirals, Admiral Hopper cleared his voice. “Is all this true, Commander? Remember, you are under oath.”

Not missing a beat, Regina replied, “Yes, everything I have outlined in my logs and during debriefings is entirely accurate.”

“Well,” sighed Admiral George whose head dropped and shook solemnly. “That is unfortunate. For one of superior intelligence and ranking as yourself, Captain Mills, I expected more from you. Even in this grand convocation,” he spread his arms out to gesture the cavernous rotunda, “which has seen many historic proceedings, deserves the kind of honor Cosmofleet prides itself on.”

“Admiral,” Archie Hopper leveled George with a scolding look, “would you please refrain from over dramatics. This is a court proceeding, not a holoprogram.”

From her repulsor pod, Regina could detect the tendons in George’s jaw tightening. The moment lasted a few seconds; nevertheless, it was a few seconds which Regina took with pleasure.

“As I was saying,” George continued, sparing an irksome look at Admiral Hopper, “it is unfortunate that the commander should swear before this court of her non-association with terrorists when I have in my possession evidence to the contrary.” He raised the datapad in his hand for all to see. “New information has been uncovered by Cosmofleet Intelligence. You will find on each of your datapads coordinates to a remote star base on the edge of the Outer Reaches. Undercover agents identified it as a station that operated under the command of ex-Commander and Commonwealth traitor Leopold White.”

Regina’s heart caught in her throat. She dared not catch George’s eye for fear she would give away her surprise. How could he know about the Raider base? She and Emma discussed at length the possibility that George knew about their run in with Leopold and Cora. There was no way George had spies in the Raider ranks. Leopold had been known for his strict recruitment policy and exterminated any who fell under suspicion of being an infiltrator.

“This star base, code named Xelphi Six, was destroyed two years ago but not before Captain Mills and two of her crew were verified as being onboard. They were not only willingly present aboard a terrorist base, but in the company of family. In the report filed by Cosmofleet Intelligence you will find holographic evidence of former Ambassador Cora Mills on very friendly terms with Leopold White. According to intel gathered in the field, they met several years ago when Ambassador Mills was still in service to the Commonwealth. They married not long after her husband’s tragic death and upon her retirement she has not appeared on Earth in any official capacity.”

It took a lot of nerve for Regina to view the evidence herself, but when she did manage it she immediately wished she had just taken George at his word. Her datapad illuminated a hologram of Leopold in a passionate embrace with his newly wedded wife, Cora.

She felt the bile tickle the back of her throat. It was damning evidence indeed, but for Regina it proved a more personal slight. She had not forgotten her mother’s betrayal and would never gloss over the fact that Cora had gone from one bed to another before the previous ever cooled. Not a week had passed before Cora traded her father in for a cold blooded murderer.

“Since her retirement, Cora Mills has been reportedly seen in the company of Leopold on various occasions. Her last corresponding to Captain’s Mills’ arrival on Xelphi Six two years ago.”

Frowning, Regina wondered why Mary Margaret’s connection to Leopold was not brought to light. George had every intention to deploy the entire fleet and spearhead war against the Raiders. He could only do so by discrediting Regina. There was no need for two scapegoats when Regina was all he required.

A human representative from the lush world of Dagomir spoke up. “Admiral George,” a concerned furrow marked his brow, “why has fleet Intelligence not come forward with these charges sooner? If one of our own ambassadors had been consorting with terrorists, what has prevented you from bringing this before the Council?”

“The anti-terrorist task force that compiled the evidence in your hands was mandated to infiltrate any and all threats to the Commonwealth and its planet colonies. It was sanctioned by this very council to carry out any measures necessary to safeguard the public. Unfortunately, that meant the nondisclosure of intelligence. The task force could not reveal Cora Mills’ activities until further investigation linking her to Captain Mills could be made.”

The council agreed silently amongst each other. The representative from Dagomir nodded to George, saying, “Alright. You may continue, Admiral.”

“There is not much more I can say without putting many million lives at risk. You all have the evidence I brought forth here today. Captain Mills’ presence aboard Xelphi Six is attested by holographic evidence. This, as you all know, is at odds with her official reports to which she signed and verified in her own hand.”

Another human male representative, this time hailing from a metropolitan world in the Oberon System, turned to Regina. “Can you explain your presence on the Raider star base, Commander?”

Biting the inside of her cheek, Regina weighed the consequences of answering that question. If she told the truth she would be putting many lives, including Henry’s, at risk. The muscles around Regina’s heart constricted. It was painful but necessary for what she was about to do. She could not cooperate with this tribunal. She would be held in contempt before she willingly laid Henry in George’s waiting clutches.

Regina locked her hands at the small of her back and squared her jaw. “With all due respect to the Council, I cannot answer that.”

Admiral Hopper frowned. He leaned forward, his fingers tapping an anxious rhythm on the table. “Why is that, Commander?”

The strain in her jaw spread. She unclenched her teeth, eyes fluttering at the question. “I cannot explain why I was on Xelphi Six because it would put lives in jeopardy. There are…” Regina’s head tilted as she caught a standstill George out of the corner of her eye, “…people who would take every opportunity to expose my weakness. My crew is my responsibility but that also means they are my liability. I cannot allow any harm to come to them.” Or Henry, she vowed to herself. “When I was less than forthcoming in my report I was thinking of my people and how best to protect them.”

Archie nodded silently, though not sparing a shadow of disappointment. He cast a glance at the other members sitting with him and said, “While this Council and my collogues in Command may respect your judgment as a commander and applaud your will to protect your own, I must stress, Captain, the seriousness of your deed.” His brow rose with the grave warning. “You made a decision that was not yours to make.”

These proceedings had Regina developing teeth marks on the inside of her cheek. It took every iota of strength in her to suppress the need to reveal the truth. The culprit was five feet away from her and all she had to do was point and hand over Ren’s evidence. Gods, it would be so easy. But it proved more complicated than that. George had probably bought the entire High Council. Anything she said, no matter the evidence, would be struck down. George could discredit her with only a glance.

Regina held firm to her conviction. She denied any further explanation, and yet they still had not finished their investigation. A barrage of questions came at her from every angle.

“Is it true that Cora Mills aligned herself with the terrorist Leopold White?”

“That is immaterial. My mother is dead.”

George interjected, “Was she or was she not in league with the Raiders?”

He took control of the inquiry by swinging his pod around, thereby fixing him closer to the Council and at odds with Regina. It proved a cunning strategy in making her seem isolated and at the mercy of the court.

In consequence to Regina’s silence, he narrowed his eyes and demanded with an elevated tone, “Do you intend to cooperate with this tribunal or would you rather see yourself confined for refusing to answer?”

Regina felt a bit of her armor cave to the missile George sent her way. She could evade him no longer. “I intend to cooperate.”

“Excellent. Would you like me to repeat the question?”

“If it pleases the court,” Regina replied dutifully. She curled her lip for George, letting him know she imparted obedience for Command and the High Council and not for him.

“Was Cora in league with the Raiders?”

“Yes.”

“And did she attempt to solicit your cooperation?”

“Yes.”

“Was she successful?”

“I object to this line of questioning!” Regina bellowed, startling the Council members. George appeared quite impassive, perhaps even enjoying the little outburst. Flushed and boiling over with rage, Regina’s snarl echoed through the rotunda. “This is all speculation!”

“With all due respect to the captain,” George defended, “there is ample evidence proving, not suggesting, the captain willingly set foot in Raider territory where she was hosted by Leopold himself. Hosted, I say, not captured. If we are to believe she had no knowledge of Mr. Glass’s turning, then how does she explain her moving about freely on a Raider base? How can we trust her judgment when her logs are irrefutably misleading?”

He fell silent. His eyes, cold and demanding, looked each and every one of the men and women in the eye. “What is at stake here, ladies and gentleman? A captain’s ego? Or the Commonwealth’s future?”

George scoffed at his own question. He didn’t intend for them to answer. He intended them to soak it in, debate over their choices, let the seed of doubt grow and fester. He backpedaled to take in the mostly empty rotunda before returning to the seated representatives. The pause gave them the impression he was finished, but he was far from it. He hammered home the final accusation with jabbing finger at Regina.

“Captain Mills’ service record displays her steadfast loyalty. But what does loyalty mean on paper? What can it give us? Actions, that’s what matter.” George listed them off one by one on his fingers. “Roguish behavior, conceited attitude unbefitting of a commander, complaints from crewmembers, inexplicable gaps in Captain’s Logs… Regina Mills’ actions are a disgrace and go against everything Cosmofleet stands for.” His eyes narrowed at the council, almost daring them to disprove him. “If she has lied about her mother’s terrorist activities what else might she be lying about?”

Regina had a white-knuckled grip on the railing of her pod and all but leaping forward to throttle George. “Three of my crewmembers were killed on Quarthos. The Raiders imprisoned and tortured me into unconsciousness. Tell me, how does that turn me into a traitor? After everything they have done to me why would I sympathize with my greatest adversary?”

“Let us not draw out these proceedings,” George droned. “We all know the verdict. Captain Mills has lied under oath. That is grounds enough for suspension. This Council has more to deal with than a mounting scandal. The enemy is but on our very doorstep. In light of these circumstances, I move for an immediate judgment. Let us lay this state of affairs to rest once and for all.”

Before Regina could get a word in edgewise, the Council were nodding their agreement and gathering for debate. Regina stepped back from the railing, fists shaking at her sides. She released a hiss over this absurd court of law. What on Earth had happened to the Commonwealth? This was supposed to be a democracy!

Her mother had been right from the very beginning and Regina was a fool not to heed the warning. Now she understood too late. Now she was experiencing it firsthand: the people whom she served were indeed not as they seemed. The system she so steadfastly trusted in had been twisted and malformed through years of George’s manipulation. The Commonwealth was as rotten to the core as a crumbling old star.

Her boiling temper caught the attention of George who chuckled from his seat. He looked entirely too pleased with himself (diplomatic grin in place, hands folded on crossed legs). Regina itched to aim a blaster bolt between his eyes. If only she had armed herself. George knew how this would play out before he even stepped foot in the rotunda. There was nothing legitimate about this tribunal. It really was just theatre.

When discussion reached a close, Regina’s heart stuttered at the person the High Council chose to level their judgment. Swallowing hard, she could already feel the warm liquid filling in her eyes. It was so appropriate that he should be the one to charge her.

“The Council, in cooperation with Cosmofleet Command, has reached a verdict.” Gathering a deep breath, Admiral Archie Hopper adjusted his spectacles before setting his mouth in a grime show of impartiality. He gazed upon his pupil, a woman he had respected and sheltered for years. “Captain Regina Mills you are hereby relieved of your command of the _Storybrooke_ and suspended from all fleet duty pending further investigation. You will refrain from stepping foot on Presido grounds and are ordered to remain within Maine state lines until further notice.” Archie held Regina’s eyes a moment longer and for split second his pretext slipped for her to make out the flicker of sadness. He turned away. “This tribunal is adjourned.”

* * *

The verdict knocked Emma’s breath from her lungs. The others remained eerily silent as she rocked back from the blow. David reached out to steady her but she waved him off. She was okay. She had to be for Regina’s sake. Her captain’s reputation had just been tarnished most abrasively. The method proved malicious and unjustified. George’s fingerprints were all over the vibroknife protruding from Regina’s back; Emma could see it from her seat at the back of the rotunda.

“What a bastard,” spat Ruby.

Emma followed the glare to the supreme bastard himself. Since Admiral Hopper called the proceedings to an end, George had called his repulsor pod over to the Council to congratulate them with smiles and handshakes.

Belle shuddered from the display of cold-hearted deception and leant into Rumple’s side for comfort.

Shaking his head, David formed a fist and let it fall hard to the railing. “This is absurd. Regina may have done some questionable things in the past, but she doesn’t deserve this. After everything she’s done for the Commonwealth… for us…”

Beside him, Mary Margaret was a twisted bundle of guilt. “Admiral George didn’t even mention me.” Her features drooped further in despair. She could not even begin to know what Regina must be feeling. For Mary Margaret, the notion of using her kinship with a wanted terrorist to ruin her career had been nothing but a possibility. For Regina it was reality. “He threw Regina under the speeder. Just like that.”

“She’s the only victim he needed,” Emma seethed. Her lips curled over clenched teeth. If only she had George in her hands. She would rip him apart if given half the chance.

It was as if Emma caught fire. The fervor of emotion threatened to upset her balance. She was a lot of things in that moment: angry at George, heartbroken to see her captain lose confidence, humiliated in herself for not getting Regina out of this situation before it all blew up in her face. The smirk on George’s face, Regina’s drooping shoulders during the cross examination, Emma’s own crumbling faith in herself as a savior… it all stirred up a molten mélange of feelings.

Everything had been stripped from Regina: her rights, her poise, and her damn rank for gods’ sake! If Emma knew Regina at all she had a feeling the woman would be stewing over this pathetic excuse for justice. Despite feeling pangs of rage herself, Emma could not lose control. Formulating their next move required a clear head.

She nodded to her fellow senior officers in silent agreement for what needed to be done. Her captain would need their strength now more than ever.

Emma rushed down the aisle leading out of the rotunda. She took the stairway, two steps at a time, and flew her way down to the main level. When she got to the polished, first-rate lobby that wound around the building, she went in search for Regina. She had an inkling that these floors were the perfect location for pacing.

It didn’t take long. The swift clicks of regulation boot heels led Emma to her target.

“Hey.”

Regina’s head whirled to the sound. Her eyes were wide and animalistic as if she were scouting for prey. Her hair was not up to its usual luster; it had clearly been worn through shaking hands and a few irate tugs.

When she registered Emma’s presence her eyes went from untamed to suspicious. Emma shrunk under the stare, feeling as if her loyalties were being assessed. It was understandable under the circumstances.

“What?” Regina spat.

She shook her fists to the demand while Emma’s gaze shifted towards the exit. No, she would not run. Instead she opened her mouth to sooth. “I –“

“Come to gloat?”

Emma frowned. “Is that what you think I came here to do?”

“It is not rocket science, as they say. I know you better than to think you’d pass up the opportunity to throw my shortcomings in my face.”

“That’s not true.”

“You’ve threatened me with worse.” Regina made to leave but paused suddenly. Thinking better of escape she whirled around. “You always thought you were better than me, like it’s some competition. One doesn’t have to be wealthy or reputable to be a snob, Miss Swan. You hide behind your bad childhood and your cocky façade and say _I_ am the hypocrite. You’ve wanted this ever since the day you set foot on my starship. You always intended them to catch me in my misdeeds. You want to rub this in my face. What is stopping you now?”

Emma didn’t know whether to laugh or scoff at this farce of an accusation. “Look, I’m sorry about what happened in there. I really am, Regina. It’s a low blow to use your mother against you like that. I’d give anything to give George a kick in the balls, but that’s not why I’m here. Just because they’ve suspended you doesn’t mean this is over.”

“You’re wrong,” Regina defied with steely glare. The muscles in her neck tensed and the nerves at her temples pulsated. Temper the color of blood rose to the surface of her face. She was a fuse about to burst. “The Council cannot be bribed or cajoled when George has them under his thumb. It is over,” Regina intoned strongly. Still, it came out like a meaningless mantra. She could no more convince Emma than she could herself.

Emma thrust her head forward, equally uncontained with rage. “The Council can kiss up to George for all I care. As far as I’m concerned the whole gods blasted government is a traitor.”

She backed down for a moment as her eyes drew down Regina’s slender physique. The captain was impeccably dressed in her single gold striped pants, jacket, and polished boots. The stiffness, though, in her posture and the rigid features of her face were not due to professionalism but something much more unrelenting.

Sighing, she looked back up at Regina. “I’m not going to watch you wallow in disgrace. Suck it up and do something about it. Stop taking shots at me and let me help you fight back. You have four, loyal senior officers who are formulating a plan as we speak. We have your back, Regina. Let’s all just sit and discuss our options. The _Storybrooke_ is as much ours as it is yours. After all the years of back breaking effort the crew has put into that ship they are far from giving it up now. And they won’t step one foot on it unless you’re in command.”

“Pep talks and false promises do me no good, Miss Swan.” Regina’s eyes fluttered. Her durasteel façade slipped for the first time, enough to reveal the overwhelming loss of hope in her eyes. She diverted her traitorous gaze quickly and told Emma, “Run along to your friends and leave me be. Before either of us says something we will regret.”

Unbelievable, thought Emma. She sprinted ahead to snag the fleeing arm.

“Unhand me!” Regina growled. She wrested herself away and gaped with disdain as if Emma’s touch scorched. “What in seven hells do you want from me?” Before she received an answer she shoved Emma by the shoulders. “They hate me! They never respected my command! What do they expect me to do? What?” She pushed again, continuing to prowl forward. “I am finished. I’ve been stripped of my authority and my dignity. Is that not enough? What do you expect of me you insufferable woman?!” She shoved harder yet, each time driving Emma into a metaphorical corner.

This could go on for a while as the hallway stretched long and wide. Regina knew Emma would let herself be pressed like this and she had half a mind to do so until the stubborn woman lay in broken shards of transparisteel. The glass walls separating the lobby from the outdoors was the only thing stopping Regina in this one-sided shoving match.

Breathless and enraged, Regina panted to catch up with her racing heart rate. She could not remember the last time they had been physical with each other. They had traded their fair share of verbal jabs, but the pushing and the grabbing always managed to ratchet up the tension. It had always been there in the space between them. When they got close like this the words unsaid and the stolen glances from across the room just festered into resentment.

Their inaction in quelling this unsavory mood just intensified to nuclear levels – all their emotions, positive and negative, the love and the hate, the terror and the thrill, magnified by a thousand. Anything could happen in that closing space. They could never speak of it, so they settled for whatever came easiest: the shoves, grabs, twists of the arm, a drawn back fist that never quite followed through.

Why didn’t Emma fight back? It would have made this so much easier for Regina. Emma hadn’t said a word as she allowed herself to be pushed. She had a temper too, and yet the soft, understanding looking back at Regina told her this woman had not reached her breaking point. The problem was, Regina had.

“Don’t look at me like this isn’t your fault!” Regina’s shout echoed through the vast lobby with no audience but the pale stricken Emma. “Don’t stand there pleading with me to play nice when you are to blame. You put me in a position to lie under oath. If it were not for you I would not have been on that gods damned star base! I would not have been tortured on Quarthos! I lost my starship because of your stupid exploits!”

Emma’s nostrils flared. “I can’t help that! You know as well as I do that I never asked to be some blasted Chosen One. I don’t want it!”

“You never did want anything even remotely associated with responsibility. You are bad luck, Miss Swan. Whatever you touch gets blasted to space parts. Since the day I met you I have faced mutiny, lost my mother and three of my crew, and sustained severe torture at the hands of the people I hate most in this universe.” Regina began to storm off until she thought better of it and whirled back. She insinuated a finger between them and glared with mighty loathing. “Scratch that. The Raiders are not that high on my list of most hated sentients.”

Emma felt the jab before it came. It was on the tip of Regina’s poisonous tongue and ready to lash like a laser whip. Paling from the neck up, Emma anticipated it from a lightyear away and her insides were slippery eels churning in distress as a result.

Head turning slightly, she warned breathlessly, “Don’t.”

The appeal only pressed Regina to follow through. “You are at the top of that list, Emma, and I regret every day since you ruined my life and my career. You cannot make me hate you any less than I do in this moment.”

Emma’s jaw hung open, speechless. Utter bafflement froze her on the spot. How could Regina talk to her like that? Why would she throw away everything they had been through? Emma was too crushed to come up with answers. She felt like a broken speeder who had just been tossed in the scrap heap.

Blinking, she stared after Regina’s retreating form. A pang assaulted her from the inside out. The sensation was familiar, one she had experienced numerous times – the first time she learned that her birth parents kicked her to the curb, whenever the foster system reduced her to a lost cause or an instructor at the academy swore she would never amount to anything.

The fact that it came from Regina made it all the more difficult to come back from. Her captain – now ex-captain – had always been a good marksman. She earned the commendations to prove it. This time her aim was remarkably true, not between the eyes but right smack in the heart. Like energy particles from a blaster beam, the feeling spread and numbed her through and through.

It could only wear her down so many times before it sank in. She would rather be tossed in the garbage compacter than left to feel this rejection.

* * *

 **“** Hey, honey. You look like you need a ride.”

“Save it. I’m in no mood.”

At late evening the streets outside the Presidio were prowling with shadows. This side of town was the Presidio’s mirror opposite. Everything upstanding, clean, and tidy rang false here. The businesses here were dingy in a corrupt sense. Regina had already passed three bordellos on her walk, two of which were emblazoned with gaudy neon signs tempting, “Want to come inside?” Bars and dance clubs scattered in close proximity along the streets. Their music competed in volume and in such vulgarity that Regina had to fight the urge to cover her bleeding ears.

There were no cars floating through these parts, not unless someone had the credits to sate their appetite. The few hovercars Regina had spotted were hugged to the curb as they chatted up lusty contractors. Her lip curled in revulsion at the overdressed hookers nearly draped inside the lowered car windows.

A few more attractive characters had noticed her high confident clicks along the duracrete and petitioned her for a private show. Regina had only smirked and politely declined.

Her pace did not let up. She felt the ungainly man stalk her from behind. When the shuffles and heavy breathing became too much, she came to a screeching halt and revealed his prize.

“Do you not understand basic English?” Her tone remained even as she held her pistol on him. Her smile made her seem relaxed by this turn of events. “I said I am in no mood.”

The bum’s hands flew up, raised high above his head. He smiled, chuckling nervously. “Alright, alright, alright,” replied smoothly, albeit shakily. “Let’s not be too hasty.” Eyes not leaving the barrel of the pistol, he retreated. “Have a good night, now.”

Regina kept her blaster trained until he disappeared into the alley. He could go solicit a lady far more pathetic than herself.

As if nothing of importance occurred, she returned her pistol under the long, black jacket she changed into after the hearing that day. Her clothes as well were swapped out for more comfortable attire. Regina rarely dressed this casual – skin tight blue jeans, stiletto ankle boots, and a silver shimmering top paired under a velvet black fashion blazer.

Regina flipped her steam straightened hair to the side as she strut down the walkway. She knew she was fabulous. It couldn’t hurt to show it. Although she did not usually go around dressed like this, she supposed there was no reason to continue upholding a sense of professionalism.

The thought brought her back to the things she said (screamed) at Emma. Regina’s pace faltered. Her eyes, heavily defined with makeup, dropped and became unfocused in a deep ocean of guilt. It took a matter of ten strides from the High Council building to register what had been said. She realized it then, shielding her eyes from the midday sun and practically sprinting from the pinprick that was Emma, how wrong she was.

Her anger had been misplaced, of course, but she couldn’t chew out the Admiral for fear of further reprimand. Her only target happened to be Emma. She was the one in the line of fire, the one who always put herself in danger for her. None of it had been Emma’s fault, Regina knew that. The things she said, she said out of futility. She had just lost her job, her purpose in the galaxy.

Loss and tragedy could not be measured when Emma had lost as many battles as Regina. She had the scars and the stains on her record to prove it. Gods, why did Regina have to say those things? Two years ago she might not have hesitated to sling such heinous claims. In fact, she had done so on many occasions with Emma coming back unscathed and smiling. This time was so much more different. Regina did not scorn Emma’s behavior because she desired to see blood. Like countless times previous she let her temper get the best of her. A sickening feeling told Regina that her insults finally found their mark; Emma might not come back unharmed and scuffing _Storybrooke’s_ floors to spite.

It was a mistake, all one huge mistake. The mantra resounded in her head ever since. The only thing Emma had ever done was stand by her side, loyal and dogged. Regina never used to be able to count on Emma like she did these days, but things had changed.

Regina breathed out a tremulous exhale into the night. She watched the puff of air swirl like a wispy fog. Confirming that there were no onlookers, she swiped a hand under her eye and caught the moisture. She must have looked a fright, even at this hour. No amount of mascara and eye shadow could conceal the dark circles. The crinkles at the corners, too, were most likely visible despite the heavy application of cosmetics.

Regina knew she should apologize, but pride stood in her way. Even now as a shamed, ex-commander she could not bring herself to stoop to the level of a sniveling fool. She hoped Emma would understand why she couldn’t admit to her faults. If anyone could it was her first officer, the woman who effectively peeled back the layers that made up Regina Mills.

Emma had to have been the only sentient in the galaxy that understood Regina, and Regina let her. She gave pieces of herself with very little fight. Oh, but in the beginning she put up a ruthless wall and would have defended it to her last dying breath. It struck her as amusing at first, the efforts Emma expended to understand this glorified model of success. Day by day she chipped away at her façade. It would have held strong were it not for the little things: the half grins that said “You like me more than you hate me” or those eyes that sang “I know you yell at me because it’s your job, but we all know you’re just a softy.” Seemingly insignificant signals could also be the big, life changing things in disguise: Emma’s return, her never ending sacrifices, and last but not least the heart tripping bundle of lovely that was Henry.

Regina pulled her coat closed and crossed her arms over it. She shook off the onslaught of memory. This day needed to burn in hell for all it had done to her. She needed to forget about the last ten hours and fast or she might go insane.

These streets were miles from the Swan residence and that was the idea. Regina could not go back there. It would have brightened her spirits to see Henry’s face, but she could not bring herself to that place. She would leave him, eventually. Earth was not her home and neither was the inside of a starship. Regina didn’t know where she’d go from here, but if there was anything she understood it was that she had to keep her distance.

When the neon lights receded and the music mellowed out, Regina knew she had reached the edge of town. She entered a bar establishment. Compared to the others, the atmosphere was above and beyond more decent. It was cleaner for one thing, and the tables and booths were filled by a fashion forward clientele. Live entertainment in the form of a bass, saxophone, keyboard and drums played off in a corner.

Soaking in the relaxed atmosphere, Regina opened her ears to the music and appreciated the lack of cat calling and the occasional blaster shots. She approached the bar and sat down in one of the empty stools. She crossed one leg over her knee and placed her hand on the bar in a comfortable pose.

She had to squint a little through the dim, smoky air. A romantic dusk permeated the room. She relied on the tea light candles along the bar to make out the faces. When her eyes caught one face in particular her lips curled up.

The bartender was a slim, attractive human female in tight black jeans and a t-shirt of similar fit and color. Her long blonde tresses, Regina knew, were silky smooth to touch.

The bartender moved swiftly and smoothly from the wet bar to the tiers of bottles behind her. The muscles in her arms and the veins in her hands strained every time she scooped up a bottle and tipped it into a drinking glass. Deft hands poured drinks without the slightest glance. She worked by touch, identifying a particular bottle by its soggy, puckering label or through the elementary system of keeping expensive drinks at the back and the cheaper, more accessible brands in front.

The saxophone’s rhythmic pattern played over a scratching drum. Jazz notes lingered on the smoke hazed air, but Regina was far too distracted to enjoy them.

While tending to customers’ thirst during the work hours, the woman’s neck developed a sheen of perspiration so she usually gathered her hair up into a knot halfway through her shift. That night she fashioned it into a ponytail, the stray strands framing her face. She wore her night on the sweat-darkened hair around her ears and near her temples. Her upper lip was slick and her breath came quick, but she looked like she didn’t want to be anywhere else. The excitement from the late night rush displayed a healthy flush to her skin.

Even in the candlelight, Regina could make out the woman’s eyes. They were the kind of green that made her knees grow weak. Everything about this bartender spoke of self-confidence, spirit, invigoration, but she also had a filthy mouth to boot.

Regina curled her bottom lip between her teeth, half nibbling half wetting the flesh until pulling free.

“Well, look who’s back on Earth.” Mal Deckard leaned back, arms crossed. Her full lips widened in a self-satisfied smirk. The glint of recognition in her eyes caught the spark in Regina’s.

“You know I work off-world,” Regina maintained, “and when I do stay it is not for very long.”

“Just enough time for a night cap and…” Mal stared long into her eyes before drawing them slowly down, not skimping any details. “I’m taking off now. Care to give a hardworking woman a ride home?”

Regina glanced at the crowd flooding through the doors. “You are still on the clock.”

Mal dropped the liquor-soaked rag somewhere under the bar, anywhere, it didn’t matter where. “I’m the owner. And I say I’m off the clock.”

Her breath caught at the self-assured spontaneity. It was by and large a quality of Mal’s that attracted Regina to her in the first place. She smirked and slid off the stool, not bothering to check that Mal trailed after.

* * *

When Emma joined her senior officers for a game of cards she did so in the hopes that it would serve as distraction. She was worrying a lot these days – about Regina, herself and Henry, and the _Storybrooke_.

Three days had passed since her argument with now ex-Commander Regina Mills and they hadn’t seen or spoken to each other. She hadn’t even come back to crash on the couch, which boded ill for Regina’s options. Emma knew she had sold her townhouse. Checking into a hotel was a possibility, but with the woman’s high standards who knew how many places she passed up.

Emma also worried about Regina’s mindset. The ex-captain just lost her command and a place she called home for seven years. A loss like that had to be on par with losing a best friend. The _Storybrooke_ had been Regina’s pride and joy. It was her life. Emma could not imagine the mourning Regina was going through.

More cause for concern rested upon Command’s lengthy deliberations. Since Regina’s suspension, the question remained whether or not to suspend the rest of her crew. They might be liable for consorting with a suspected traitor and withholding critical intel. It wouldn’t be surprising. If Admiral George desired the entire _Storybrooke_ dismantled deck by deck, he possessed the funds to accomplish it. He could bribe the entire High Council to destroy Emma and that’s what frightened her most.

She had left that tribunal with more questions than answers. Why wasn’t the prophecy brought up? Did George even know about it? Did he suspect Emma’s involvement? If so, why hadn’t he dismantled her career like he did Regina’s?

If worst came to worst and Emma had to undergo reprimand she’d have more to worry about than herself. Henry’s lifestyle depended on her Cosmofleet salary. His clothes, schooling, everything came from her service to the Commonwealth and when Admiral George took that away he took away her ability to care for her son.

Despite the hardships facing her family, Emma couldn’t regret associating with Regina and defending her choices. She would certainly slap her hand on another one of those ion generator coils before she ever apologized for soliciting the services of a pirate in rescuing her captain.

Emma was going stir crazy. She felt under the blaster with the Raiders lying in wait for her to answer their bid for leadership. Cosmofleet didn’t know what to do with her. They couldn’t promote her to command the _Storybrooke_ for fear that Regina had made Emma her puppet. Emma didn’t even know what would befall her own crew, the people she trusted most in this debacle.

Not keen on cooping herself at home and worrying herself into a ball of crazy, Emma decided to hit the town. She stopped by the White Rabbit, a destination frequented by her senior officers. It could have been out of the need to distract herself, but the nostalgia was too strong. She shared fond memories at the White Rabbit with her crewmates, playing cards, watching the swoop races, and betting on how much Mary Margaret could drink before she fell off her stool. It was times like those that made Emma question her reasons for resigning from Cosmofleet in the first place.

The door creaked open on its stiff hinges as Emma slipped into the raucous bar. The White Rabbit looked just as it had the last time. The fish netting still hung haphazardly as decoration as did the rusted Marine sabers, blaster prototypes, and musty smelling Cosmofleet uniforms. It somehow managed to combine the antiquated and the modern, something Emma always scratched her head over. There were dart boards, pool tables, a jukebox, and an Old World flat screen televising a live dodge discuss match.

Emma strolled through the crowd bellying up to the bar. Her eyes darted from one thirsty customer to the next in search for a familiar face. The White Rabbit was a popular hot spot with cadets looking for a break from their studies and officers of the fleet on shore leave. It was easy to distinguish between the two; students did not tend to hold their liquor well.

The big similarity, of course, was their penchant to overindulge on fire whiskey. A scuffle broke out to Emma’s left and she dodged quickly to avoid some airborne peanuts. There were shouts and jeers, cheers and celebrations, but at the end of the day they were all brothers and sisters in service to Cosmofleet. They had each other’s back regardless of species, gender, religion, color, or flavor.

Emma bypassed some offers from a few handsome males to buy her a drink and headed for the back of the place. Despite gambling’s illegal status on Earth, the White Rabbit was known in the inner circles to ride a lenient business. While they turned a blind eye to bets on hologames, darts, pool, and whatever else an enterprising gambler had up his or her sleeve, the establishment offered a more lucrative means to test one’s luck in high stakes card games.

Patting her pockets to ensure her credits were still where she left them, Emma slipped into the private room. When her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she counted three: David, Leroy, and Rumple all sitting at a round table of sea green felt. They were hovered over their hands, eyes shifting from their cards to their opponent’s telling reactions.

Based on his limited credits, Leroy looked to be in the throes of a downswing. David was tucking his cards under his chin and grinning madly like a kid who just won a speeder bike at the carnival. He couldn’t fashion a poker face if he had a blaster canon pointed at him. Rumple’s brow sagged heavily under his decision to stay or fold. The sly, gold-green scaled Lacertan could back out, but the shit eating grin on David’s face just spurred him to risk it all to see the look of devastation replace it.

“Hey, guys.”

The three heads snapped up simultaneously to the female voice. Not having the light to put a face to the voice, the presence of a woman in their secret sanctum spurred disconcerting looks. A lady join a gentleman’s game? It was out of the question!

Emma snickered at their matching frowns and stepped into the light. “What’s with the long faces? Afraid you’ll get an ass kicking in cards from your superior officer?”

“Emma!” David cried, somewhat relieved. “We thought you were someone else!”

“A woman?”

He chuckled nervously and scratched the back of his neck, biding for an explanation.

“Course not,” Leroy recovered for his friend whilst miming him to breast his cards. “You know you’re always welcome to the big boys’ table! As long as you have the funds to buy in. This is high stakes as you see. What do you say, Rumple?”

Rumple raised a brow, weighing his options. Leroy was in the red already and David’s grinning was like a handicap to himself. Emma may be a female and a human at that, but her skills in cards matched his own on a good day. His yellow eyes flicked down to the pile of credits at his elbow. He could afford the challenge.

He sighed, gesturing to the open chair with little fanfare. “An empty chair is bad luck. It wouldn’t hurt to add one more player.”

Emma smiled, taking it as a compliment.

‘Boys’ night’ as heard around the _Storybrooke_ always managed to permeate a room with steely determination as a means to measure masculinity by the length and pride. Emma didn’t have trouble fitting in with the guys because she had been surrounded by male superiority since her induction into Cosmofleet Academy. Throughout the years she gained the experience and the strength of mind to beat men at their own game be it on the card table, the gym mat, or in the simulator. It took more than muscle to stand up to the naysayers. In Emma’s experience it depended on brains and balls. And you didn’t have to be a man to own an impressive set of balls.

Once Emma got settled between Leroy and Rumple she was brought up to speed on house rules.

Leroy raised his fist to his mouth and cleared his throat before speaking. “This here is now a gentlemen’s plus one lady’s game of five card draw. A player can’t remove five consecutive cards from the deck. If you want to replace your entire hand you’ll be given four in turn and the fifth after the others have gotten their draw. Understand?”

Emma nodded. “I think I got the gist.”

“David is dealing this round as that grin of his is starting to creep me the hell out.”

David made a face, but shuffled the deck anyway.

Over the next hour they played, drank, and engaged in light discussion. It only took three rounds for Emma to realize Leroy’s ego (provided it was lubricated with whiskey) was a huge detriment to his betting. David, as she learned in past card games, just got worse throughout the night and was the only one at the table who believed he could bluff successfully. Rumple, however, played in the same league as Emma. There were a few times he had her fooled, but not enough to lose a heavy pot over it.

After winning several hands consecutively, Emma was getting cocky. She ordered another drink for herself, elbows weighing on the table for support. Her lips grazed the rim of her glass as she stared at nothing in particular.

“I’m the Freedom Raiders’ savior,” she blurted out.

In the midst of dealing a new round, Leroy’s hand hesitated. Head tilted to the side, his eyes met her equally glassy ones in scrutiny. Even after a few drinks he could still see through bull shit.

“Huh?” was all he came up with.

“It’s true,” she slurred. “Says so in their ancient book. The prophecy foretells a hero that will liberate the people.”

Rumple’s eyes zeroed in on her, not liking the sound of that. As a Lacertan he distrusted human authority due to the discrimination his people had received at their hands. According to his species’ history, a liberator was a tyrant in disguise. “What people?” he sneered.

“Everyone. Pretty much anyone who has ever been repressed by the Commonwealth.”

“Who told you this?” David asked, concerned.

“Remember Quarthos?”

He nodded grimly. It would be impossible to forget the day his captain got captured and his first officer went AWOL as a result.

“The Raider leader, Anderson, briefed me on the whole thing. He wants me to lead them in a war against the Commonwealth.”

Rumple cackled dryly. “Just the Commonwealth?”

“I’m with Rumps on this one.” Waving his drink around, Leroy had since foregone dealing cards for soaking their table to a dark spring green. “The Raiders couldn’t have picked someone with a bigger arsenal?” His shaking head wobbled. “The least they could do was prophesize us up a more practical savior.”

“Leroy!” scolded David. He offered Emma a wincing smile and “He’s blitzed out of his head.”

She waved it off before raising her drink to her lips. “So am I.” And yet the more she talked about it the less intoxicated she felt. Overwhelming responsibility had a way of sobering a person up.

Leroy’s elbow intended a gentle prod but his intoxicated state overplayed the brotherly nudge. Her drink sloshed over the side and doused the green felt. “Kind of hard not to drink up heartily when you have the weight of the universe on your shoulders.”

Angling his eyes up, Rumple chided, “Oh, _that’s_ helping her.”

“No one can help me,” she stated, shooting him a glare. “I’m beyond saving just like the whole gods damned galaxy. It’s my destiny to defeat the greedy and corrupt and I can’t even keep my own commander from getting suspended.” She hung her head and mumbled, “Some savior I am.”

“At least you haven’t spaced out yet,” grunted Leroy. “Others would subject themselves to explosive decompression before considering a bid to heroship.” He washed his hands of it with a deep swig from his glass. “In any case, it sounds like a load of contaminated vapor to me.”

David stared, somewhat offended and stupefied at the same time. “Now we know how you cope with an immense situation.”

“How?”

“Drink about it.”

Emma snorted.

“Personally, I know what I’d do.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Don’t leave us hanging.”

“If it were me,” David started, holding his head up with the heel of his hand, staring ahead, “I would turn in my resignation — I already can’t stand Command’s opinions against diversity in the service — and take the first flight to the Outer Reach. I’d find the Raiders and see how I could help.”

Emma chuckled over her drink glass. “Typical nice guy.”

“That’s not to say I wouldn’t take all my lab equipment with me before I jet off. That stuff is not cheap and most markets don’t even sell portable infrared GPR.”

“Oh,” her widened her eyes theatrically, “he’s going rogue on us! Hurry, someone shave his stubble before he turns pirate!”

Rumple and Leroy erupted into fits of laughter.

Blushing, David stuck his tongue into his cheek and nodded amid their fun.

“What about you, Rumple?” he asked when the chuckles died down. He folded his arms on the table, gazing over at the Lacertan. “What would you do if someone claimed you were the galaxy’s only hope?”

Rumple’s eyes dropped to the table and fell silent in thought. When he gathered an answer his head rose and he said, “I’d resign Cosmofleet and go back to my home planet. Belle has heard me talk about the songbirds of Lacerta and has always wanted to visit.”

Leroy made a sour face, which made his features look just as pinched. “Isn’t your planet a swamp land covered in marshes and slimy nonsentients?”

“It’s tropical,” Rumple upheld.

“To the cold-blooded.”

“Why you —!“

David pressed a hand to Rumple’s scaly shoulder while Emma held back Leroy. Their faces were made red by anger and alcohol. Both the men’s chairs were topped over by their hasty tempers.

It took a while, but Emma managed to help the engineer find his seat in his blitzed state. If the fight ran its course Leroy would have ended up down for the count before a single punch was thrown.

When Rumple eased back into his seat he gave his shirt a tug and fashioned his usual scowl.

“Anyway,” Emma cleared the tension with a bit of her own, “I have more to worry about than pleasing the Raiders. If Admiral George knows about the prophecy he’ll no doubt label me a threat.”

Deep creases formed in David’s forehead. “But, Emma, if that’s true you could be in a lot of danger. The admiral is a very powerful man.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t you think I know that?”

Rumple’s long, dexterous fingers grabbed hold of the deck Leroy abandoned and finished dealing. “It’s not the end of the world.” The room went silent. He shrugged and remarked, “Stranger things have happened in the galaxy.”

“I suppose,” David said. He turned to Emma with a smirk. “Of all the anomalies I’d say you being the Chosen One is the least surprising. But that doesn’t mean we should all be so cavalier about our destinies.”

They all fell quiet. Although impending war and the prophecy were two subjects charged with tension, they drew a line at delving into fate talk.

The ice cubes in Leroy’s glass tinkled as he slurped. “Anyone hear news about our next commission? If we even get one?”

Rumple shrugged. Though he didn’t show it, he had missed the _Storybrooke_ as much as everyone else. Every once and a while a feeling would creep into his hands similar to wounded servicemen with phantom limb pain. His hands were like an extension of the helm, every minuscule correction maneuvering it through thick and thin. He liked to think he had the most important job on the ship. His hands, after all, cradled their starship and steered it true. He longed to take back the _Storybrooke_ and feel those controls in his hands. He felt lost without it.

“We’ve been grounded for two weeks,” he said. He fought to extinguish the disappointment from his voice but to no avail. “No fleet ship stays in space dock this long unless two things: major repairs or a High Council mandated investigation.”

“I know the girl’s not getting work done on her,” Leroy affirmed. “If she was, I would be onboard instead of slumming it here with you losers.”

Smiling, David slapped him on the back. “We love you too, Leroy.”

“I’m serious, though. I miss the old girl. I don’t know why you guys aren’t more upset. We got kicked out of our own house, and Command doesn’t tell us tar.”

“That’s bureaucracy,” Rumple threw in, knowing it would just add more fuel to the already lubricated engineer.

“Bullshit. This would never have happened if it weren’t for Captain Mils. We should have dropped her like a bent spanner when we had the chance.”

Emma winced. She had witnessed him in this state a few times but had yet to be on the receiving end of his drunken rants. Despite the burning need to defend Regina, she had been having a shit day and didn’t want it to mark the first time her and Leroy locked horns.

“Leroy…” she cautioned gently.

“No!” he spat. “Don’t Leroy me! Command is deliberating amongst themselves about what to do about us and we’re made to sit around and wait for the vibroax to fall on our necks.”

“It’s not her fault,” Emma argued.

“Frankly,” David spoke up, “it doesn’t matter what Regina did or didn’t do. We are being wrongfully punished just for being her crew. It’s condemnation by association.”

Leroy grunted.

“We have your back, Emma, and the captain’s,” continued David. “She may be suspended from the fleet, but that’s just bureaucracy as Rumple says. If we were in a dogfight I’d rather have Regina on my wing than any of those guys from Command — and that’s including George. When the Raiders come for war, if it comes to that, we stand together. The _Storybrooke_ isn’t just a ship. It’s our home and our family. We take care of our own, isn’t that what the captain always says? And Leroy won’t admit it, but he’ll follow the rest of us in protecting her.”

That seemed to rouse Leroy from his stupor. His head snapped up to reveal a much sober face. “Now hold up, science boy. Just because –“

He was interrupted by an earsplitting _bang!_ The room’s old-fashioned wood door swung open and nearly splintered off its hinges. The force shook the walls and the ceilings, making the room’s only lamp sway precariously from its cord. As the beam of light swung to and fro, it illuminated the intruders: masked soldiers, a dozen of them, all clad in special forces gear.

Emma didn’t need a memo to identify them as Admiral George’s private band of black op thugs. They were like guns for hire but grittier, soulless, and under the complete influence of one man. They never used blasters. They were ruthless enough to carry out a hit in personal quarters. Assassination by their own hands and nothing else.

And they came for Emma


	11. Chapter 11

The crew had seconds to snap out of it. Any more time and their assailants would have taken advantage of their surprise.

Emma huffed. Apparently George knew about her part in the prophecy after all. His intentions were clear with the presence of his fists-for-hire. He meant to capture not just the Chosen One, but all those associated. It didn’t matter if they didn’t believe in the prophecy. Knowledge was power and George would destroy every being that threatened his empire.

Wordlessly, the soldiers came rushing through the doorway. There were several snap hisses as each of them unleashed their vibroknives.

Chosen One or not, Emma didn’t take kindly to bullies. She just happened to be lucid enough to keep them off her.

There was a flurry of activity. Chairs toppled over and glass shattered. The loud thumping of music still emanated from the main bar area. There was screaming and people were turning over tables to escape. Although many if not all of the customers were Cosmofleet officers, none of them seemed to want to get involved.

Strong arms took Emma from behind. She couldn’t see who grabbed her, but his identity wasn’t important. Emma struggled within the embrace, trying to breathe against the pressing force of his forearm. Her arms were then pinned to her sides, so she twisted to and fro in the hopes to slip free or break his grip. He was too strong.

He swung her around. Another fight was going on in front of her. The soldier tackling Leroy had his back to her. Taking the opportunity, she kicked out at him with both legs. The force knocked back her attacker leaving him stunned on the floor. With little thought, she asserted her boot into his face. His goggles shattered and his mouth bled a river. When he was adequately unconscious she threw herself at the next soldier.

Leroy wasn’t as lucky. He had been caught in a headlock, face growing purple from lack of oxygen. Rumple, claws drawn and eyes a blazing turmeric, streaked in and grabbed the assailant by the throat. The soldier’s gasps turned to chokes, and he was thrown into the wall at an unpleasant angle. Anyone Rumple touched sported neck lacerations and ended up blacked out on the floor.

Massaging his throat, Leroy gave Rumple a nod of thanks.

David held his own against his opponent. This one matched his nimbleness but was armed. The vibroknife glowed white in the dim room and threatened to distract David with its brightness. With a balanced stance, the soldier thrust forward, backing David into the card table. Feeling for the felt behind him, he rolled back on the table and landed on his feet on the others side. He took up one of the chairs, held it high over the head as he did the stalagmite on Nal Korobi, and hurled it. The soldier fell in a pile of splintered wood and stayed down long enough for Emma to knock him out with a well-placed elbow.

It was still a six to five fight and from the screams outside there was more on the way.

“They’ve got backup!” Leroy growled. He threw his elbow into a soldier’s groin and punched him in the face.

One of Admiral George’s men leaped from the shadows and caught Emma unguarded.

“Oof!”

She doubled over, covering her stomach. Her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked through the pain and stumbled her way to safety.

David grabbed her arm and dragged her behind a large steel cart that held gaming equipment. While he started pitching heavy pool balls at masked heads, Emma stayed down to catch her breath.

She looked up at him and saw the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Rumple was getting a beating not far away and his scales were more ruffled than usual. A grunt directed Emma to Leroy who had dove under the table and tucked into the best roll he could manage semi-drunk. His knuckles were red and by the way he shook his head Emma would say he’d have a very bad headache come morning.

Emma’s heart sank at the state of her team. They could not hold out much longer. These soldiers were well trained and highly motivated. Admiral George did not accept defeat and everyone including the men he hired knew it. She and her friends were sore, demoralized, and badly outnumbered. They had to get away before George made an example of them.

Closing her eyes, she exhaled. She used the back of her arm to clean the sweat from her brow. “David, we can’t keep this up much longer.” Her eyes were frantic, jumping from one enemy to the next. She stopped counting because it was too depressing. “There’s too many.”

Ducking down, David asked breathlessly, “What did you have in mind?”

“I say we split up. You and the guys go through the front and lose them outside.”

David’s eyebrows pinched together. “What about you?”

“We’re not the only targets on George’s hit list. I have to find Regina and make sure she’s safe. We’ll rendezvous at space dock and get the hell out of here.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? We can’t just walk away with a fleet starship. Command has us grounded.”

Exasperation had Emma grabbing David by the shoulder and giving him a shake back to reality. “Look around you David! We are beyond suspended. Do you think the fleet’s going to give a vaping shit about policy at a time like this?”

“Alright, alright. I see your point.”

“So you take Leroy and Rumple out of here. Gather the others and have the _Storybrooke_ ready to enter hyperspace by the time Regina and I board.”

“Got it.” David nodded his head firmly. He rolled his shoulders, getting limbered up for an arduous run through traffic. Then, lifting his head above the cart, his eyes panned around the room. “What’s your exit strategy?”

“There’s a door that leads to the alley. Luigi leaves it locked though.”

Rumple must have overheard her because he shouted, “I can clear you a path!”

The soldier he was fighting received a sharp lashing from his claws. Rumple then crouched low to the ground like a sprinter before a race and shot off in the direction of the exit. He was a blur of gold as the light reflected off his scales. The soldier blocking his path to the doorway brought up his vibroknife but a human’s speed could not match that of a Lacertan.

Rumple plowed into the soldier, his razor sharp claws piercing armor, skin, and tissue. He didn’t stop until his feet hit duracrete and the door was laid broken on the alleyway ground. The soldier laid on top of it, bleeding from the ten puncture wounds to his chest and stomach.

Open-mouthed, his team was left blinking at the carnage.

“Not what I had in mind,” Emma muttered with a shrug of her shoulder, “but that will do.” She made to leave but there was a tug on her arm

“Be careful, Emma,” warned David. His eyes flashed soft despite the terror engulfing their hearts. “And bring the captain home safely.”

She swallowed with difficulty and nodded.

The fresh, cool air of night stirred her hair. Emma’s boots struck against the uneven duracrete of the alley, making splashes through muddy puddles. She heard a pair of boots behind her over the blood pumping in her ears. One out of eight wasn’t half bad. If anyone knew these streets it was Emma. She could lose him in three blocks at the most.

She took off at a run.

* * *

If Regina had not been wearing a turtleneck sweater, the garrote wire would have cut right through the skin and severed a carotid artery. From that day on she would always be grateful to that sweater. But she was only safe for the moment. His grip was strong and more than capable of making escape a grueling ordeal.

Regina had been unpacking her car that night. After her prompt suspension, there weren’t many places for someone like her to live. Thankfully, she was able to get a hold of her realtor and buy back her townhouse for a reasonable price. She spent the whole day moving her things out of her Presidio office and into her house. Her BenzHover was packed with boxes. It only took two trips – two sad, lonely trips.

She had started unloading the last things from her car when she was ambushed. He wore no uniform or insignia. Black camouflage, light armor, a burly imposing shadow… the likes of Admiral George’s private army, no doubt.

He snuck up on her from behind, still and silent as a vacuum. With both hands he looped a steel wire around her neck. She didn’t even have time to scream for help.

Struggle was futile. It was dark, past the time for a late night stroll, leaving Regina and her captor to their not-so-intimate embrace. She opened her mouth gasping for much needed air, but only managed to cough against the pressure on her throat. Her eyes bulged as she gasped.

Soon her strength began to wane and her lids drooped. She fought the blackness crowding her vision. With her last ounce of power, Regina drew her arm forward and thrust back. Her elbow met his rib with a crack. The soldier released her as he doubled over coughing.

Regina reached out for the ground spinning under her. She steadied herself against the side of her BenzHover until her bearings returned. It only took a few seconds for the black dots to clear from her vision but when they did she was met with pain. The soldier backhanded her. She stumbled back, stunned. He advanced, fists clenched around the garrote and prepared to return it to her throat once again – this time to finish what he started.

Regina had no doubt in her mind that he was going to finish the job. She had not just injured his rib, but his ego. If she knew soldiers, they did not take nicely to getting beaten up – by a woman no less. But to further upset the odds, this was no ordinary soldier. If this man was who Regina feared he was, his motivation far outweighed the duty to serve one’s planet. He would carry out what he was hired to do.

For a split second Regina thought of running. She could easily outrun a soldier weighed down by muscle and bravado. But it would not be wise as she wore heels. She looked down at her hands and upon seeing how weaponless they were her heart sank. She would not die this way: unarmed and left on the side of a suburban sidewalk. She would rather meet a space vacuum than have George succeed.

Choosing fight over flight, Regina grabbed the nearest object from inside her car and swung. The fire iron hit his shoulder, point end sinking into flesh.

It had been next to her office fireplace ever since her promotion and she couldn’t bear to leave it behind. She really liked that poker. Studded at the butt of the silver handle with the galaxy’s finest rubies. A high profile commander like Regina had friends in high places, one of which happened to be a director of the Mining Guild.

If he screamed, the mask muffled it. Black ops soldiers were trained under harsh conditions and pushed beyond normal humanoid expectations. They were impervious to pain. This soldier wasn’t any different.

He paused only to take the poker out of his flesh. With a jerk, he ripped it out of her grip and dropped it to the ground.

It wasn’t so much the sound of it clattering to the duracrete that made Regina flinch than the failure of last resort. She was so frozen she could not get her feet to move. Her heels were like duracrete blocks, weighing her to the spot of her final destination.

Regina heard a rustling of leaves and branches. The hedges, neatly trimmed and bluish white under the moonlight, enclosed her property from passersby and neighboring houses. Before she could determine the sound’s exact origin, something came streaking out of nowhere and pounced on her assailant with nimble speed. Blinking, Regina realized it was not something but someone who had jumped in to save her.

The force with which the stranger leapt smashed the soldier against the BenzHover. The passenger sideview mirror crunched under his body and knocked the wind out of him. Anyone with eyes would assume that the soldier had the advantage, yet he had been so taken off guard that the odds were turning against him.

Regina could not tell them apart what with the sea of black: dark clothes, midnight armor, cascading hair. The brawl was quick – expertly placed jabs and blocks so swift Regina would have missed by blinking. They fought like professionals but in two different ways. With Regina’s knowledge of combatant styles she identified the soldier’s as instinct driven and near animalistic in a mixed martial arts form of Keysi (a known style amongst black ops). The stranger employed a sect of wushu as evidenced by their strong arm and hand techniques while standing immobile.

A loud bang brought Regina to the present and had her eyes widening to the beating he was getting. The gloved hands held his head back and shoved him once more into the steel bodywork of her car. Blood splattered across the windshield like an abstract piece of art. The soldier that came to kill her sagged unconscious to the ground.

Mouth hung open, Regina panned from the damage to the individual who delivered it. “Ren?” she gasped.

Ren gave a nod, stepping back from the body and catching her breath.

“What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t actually think this was over, did you?” Throwing the soldier a spiteful look, Ren used the back of her hand to swipe away a speckle of blood from her chin (his blood, of course). “Admiral George has had you followed since you landed on Earth. Of course, while his special forces were doing his bidding I was shadowing them.”

Anger spiked, coloring Regina’s cheeks red. “You’ve been following me?”

“It’s part of my job, remember? Anderson would have my head if I so much as blinked.”

“I thought protecting the _Savior_ was your prime objective.”

“Emma Swan can take care of herself. She also has friends who have her back.”

Hardly recoiling from the dig, Regina flicked a strand of hair from her face. “You certainly have a way with people,” she muttered dryly.

“I’m not in the people business.”

Regina rolled her eyes. Neither was she, but then again Cosmofleet captains just couldn’t go around insulting upper management willy nilly. Her eyebrows furrowed. Ex-captain, she corrected herself.

Regina’s eyes landed on her car. She gave out a sigh and a wave of her hand. “Are you going to remove the blood from my car?”

“No.”

She held Ren’s indifference longer than necessary, brow raised to the peculiar.

Although she had been absolutely serious about her car’s defacement, she expected more than a one-word response. Regina wondered if this girl had ever possessed a sense of humor, or manners no less. Her sister certainly smiled enough and said her pleases and thank yous when she was alive.

Regina grimaced at the reminder of Mulan’s death. Even after Ren’s assurances that her sister’s mission had always been to protect the Swans, she still had a hard time reconciling her betrayal. In light of recent circumstances, there may be room for consideration. She might not respect the way the sisters went about trust, but they had been family and had lost each other. Regina knew death, especially when it came to visit loved ones.

A rare surge of remorse affected Regina. Ren’s grief must have made it impossible for her to hang on to a spare joke. It couldn’t be easy to rise every morning and come face-to-face in the mirror with your dead twin.

Clapping boot heels pierced the night’s stillness. Regina whirled around, expecting to defend against another attack. Neither friend nor foe, she kept her defenses intact just the same.

“Miss Swan!” she breathed.

Emma arrived on the scene. She was out of breath and her eyes were wild. “Thank gods you’re alright!” she gasped. Her relief faltered when she saw that they were not alone. “Ren? What are you doing here?”

“How did you find me?” Regina demanded, a bit stunned by Emma’s intuition.

“The guys and I were ambushed at the Rabbit Hole. When we separated I headed for your office in the hopes that you might be moving out. Your assistant told me to come here.”

“Yes, I moved my things out today. I didn’t see reason to put it off any longer.” Regina’s gaze turned downcast at the boxes in her backseat. “It didn’t take long,” she murmured.

“Erm…” Emma looked away, regretting ever bringing it up. “Yeah. When I told your assistant you were in danger she sent me here. She’s pretty loyal to be helping out her suspended boss.”

“Loyalty is hard to come by these days, but I’m grateful to have allies.” It occurred to Regina that Ren was still there. She turned and said, “I never thanked you.”

Ren held up her hand and shook her head. “No need.”

Emma looked between them with a niggling sensation. She felt awkward standing there without a purpose and seriously out of the loop. She wasn’t really sure what had occurred beyond a rescue. Ren saved Regina’s life, but why? It wasn’t that Emma wasn’t grateful – she was entirely happy with someone as skilled in combative techniques as Ren to protect Regina. But considering Regina’s history with the Freedom Raiders she could give Ren every reason to leave her in the lurch.

Guilty by her own selfish desires, Emma bit her lip. It wasn’t necessarily the person who saved Regina that bothered her than the fact that it wasn’t Emma herself who did the saving.

When Regina picked up the sound of shuffling boots, she fought a rolling of eyes. Turning, her lips graced a smirk that went wholly unnoticed by either of them. “Feeling neglected, Savior?”

Emma frowned, a bit peeved by the accusation. “No. And don’t call me that.”

“I should be going now,” Ren spoke up. “Neither of you saw me here.”

Regina nodded, watching her trot off into the darkness from where she came.

As if noting the all clear, the crickets resumed their calling. Regina scrubbed at her temples, trying to tune out the racket. Her head was about ready to explode and she could hardly swallow. In the span of a few days she had been tortured, suspended, and nearly suffocated. How bad could one person’s week actually get?

“We’re to meet the rest of the crew on the _Storybrooke_ ,” Emma said, startling Regina from her thoughts. Her voice remained oddly monotone. Her eyes, uncertain where they should be focused, dodged the ones staring back. “If you’re not hurt or anything, then I’ll get out of your hair. See you around,” she muttered, though her tone assumed otherwise.

Confused by the feelings she was experiencing, Regina frowned.

Some part of her sank at the sight of Emma trudging away. And then it dawned on her: she really hurt Emma’s feelings that day of the tribunal. She made her feel unwanted, which had to be a constant yet unpleasant friend of hers before finding a home on the _Storybrooke_. Regina didn’t know much about Emma’s past, but her service record did give brief mention of foster care where she had been passed around like a delinquent android-for-hire.

“Emma, wait.” Regina surged forward with her hand reaching out and touching the vacated space.

Emma came to a slow stop. Her head lowered in debate.

“I feel I must –“

She turned with a pleading look. “You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do.”

It occurred to Regina that drudging it all up might hurt Emma more than not. Far worse had probably been slung at her. It didn’t take much effort for Regina to imagine Emma fighting back throughout the years against bullying foster brothers, incompetent parents, and intolerant teachers. And then there were the supervisors – conniving admirals and evil queens to boot.

Like Regina, arguing was Emma’s instinctual response, so she could relate somewhat. But fighting only helped in the short-term. The hits just kept coming, penetrating deeper and deeper until the skin was trained to durasteel thickness.

Now Emma took it all in stride. Like a space-weary traveler who had grown numb from far too many climates, she just turned the other cheek and shot down any hint of apology. To relive the accusations… they hit so close to home that it was just too much. Emma was tired. Maybe tired of even her accuser.

Regina didn’t know the last time she apologized to anyone, but she did know that she could not take that bleak, demoralized look. It stung that she put it there and she didn’t know why.

“Would you…” Her thumb pointed to the pristine townhouse behind her. Regina hesitated, trying and failing to translate the disquiet. “Would you like to come inside?”

Emma shoved her hands in her pockets. She refused to meet Regina’s eyes. “No.”

“Fine,” Regina huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. She stared hard enough for Emma’s chin to finally rise. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Looking at me,” she shot back with more venom than necessary. Wincing, she outlined her eyebrow with a finger. Now Regina was the one who couldn’t keep eye contact. “Also, I apologize. It was wrong of me to say what I said that day. You were just trying to reassure me. I shouldn’t have snapped. That behavior is deplorable of a captain… “ she squinted at Emma’s feet and gave her head a little jostle, “… and a friend, I suppose, but I don’t expect you to think of us that way after the way I treated you.”

Emma’s eyes widened.

“I just…” Regina cleared her throat. “If we were to continue working together, it would be awkward to leave things unsaid. I wouldn’t want our rapport to suffer.”

“After all that effort to get along, you mean,” Emma added with a smirk. “No, I guess I wouldn’t want to go back to square one either.”

“We made progress these past few years, Miss Swan,” Regina tipped her head amusingly, “and it was far from easy.”

“We’re not a picnic, you and I.”

“… Indeed.”

Their eyes met with amusement and complete understanding before turning away. It surprised them how quick they could get on the same wavelength just as soon as the tension could reassert itself. It was just as thick and changeable between them as before.

“You said some pretty awful things,” Emma echoed, head ducking. Her mouth formed a grim line. A moment passed wherein Regina waited, barely breathing, and clutching her middle with one hand. “Hm,” Emma hummed to herself. Her mouth turned up slightly. “But I guess I’m used to it.”

Regina’s mouth opened and closed. Her eyes fell closed as she felt the dread overcome her. “You shouldn’t have to,” she asserted softly. She wasn’t even sure if Emma caught on, so she said louder, “No one should have to get used to feeling unwanted. You will always be welcome on the _Storybrooke_. That is, if she is ever returned to me.”

“You already have her,” Emma reported with a smile. “We’re taking back the _Storybrooke_ whether Command likes it or not. Based on tonight’s events, it’s obvious that Admiral George knows about the prophecy. I have a target on my head now and so does every member of our crew. I say it’s high time we take our chances with the Raiders, and you’re leading us.”

“I find that hard to believe. It has not been that long since I destroyed Xelphi Six against my crew’s wishes. They have no tolerance for me or my methods.”

Emma stepped forward, shaking her head. “Commanders own up to their mistakes. You can start by protecting our people. Command’s assignments mean nothing now. We answer to no one but our captain. She’s the only one who has stood by us. The crew is willing to follow as long as you see them through this.”

Emma figured that arguing about right and wrong wasn’t worth the trouble. Regina listened to orders and irrefutable logic. Now she was being given an order. Emma was telling her to step up and take back her command.

“You and I both know we don’t belong anywhere else but the inside of that starship,” she insisted. Her voice lowered to a softness a dreamer could understand. Because for all Regina walked and talked about service to the fleet and carrying out crystal clear directives, she had has many stars in her eyes as Emma. “Forget about Cosmofleet and what your mother wanted for you. Forget about the tribunal. I already forgive you, Regina. Take the next step and come with me. Let’s bring our team back together.”

Regina worked through it in her head. She tried to find some loophole, some impediment that would set back all the progress she made in recapturing that virtue and passion a little girl experienced all those years ago riding horses.

“If I come back, we are even you and I.”

Emma face scrunched.

Rolling her eyes slightly, Regina explained, “For all the times you saved me…” She paused, hoping Emma wouldn’t make her recite every single instance.

“Oh, right,” drawled Emma. Her eyes sparkled with mirth. “Well, it’s going around that I’m this savior or whatever.” She shrugged, smirk widening. “We could call it even.”

Regina titled her head. “You don’t have to be smug about it, dear.”

“I get that you’re annoyed sometimes when I have to save your ass, but I care about what happens to you.” Emma took a deep breath, finding her heart rate faster than normal. “A-and I worried when you didn’t come back to the apartment that night of the hearing.”

Regina studied Emma with a careful eye. Suddenly it dawned on her. “Oh.” Her head rose and then fell slowly in understanding. Her eyes searched the sidewalk, remembering where she had been that night.

“You know, just because we had an argument doesn’t mean you’re not welcome in my home. I know it wasn’t true when you said you hated me.” Emma gave a smile that only seemed genuine on the outside. “It’d take more than that to make me kick you out.”

Regina’s hand came to her shirt collar. Her chest tightened at the memory of silken hollows and resonating urges. She had a particular fondness for Mal, but never this… this whatever she was feeling. She couldn’t describe it but it did make her sick to remember what occurred and be looking at Emma at the same time.

“That’s not why I stayed away,” Regina said. “I-I was angry, yes, but not at you. I needed space.”

Emma nodded quickly and looked to her toes. “Fair enough.”

It had been a night of ambushes and diverted gazes.

Emma summed it all up with a lengthy exhale and, “When in seven hells are we going to catch a break, huh?”

Regina chuckled over a much-needed sigh. Her clutching, sweaty hands unfurled and hung down loosely to her sides. “I don’t know, but I could use a vacation. And I never need a vacation.”

Emma laughed. The tension was loosening so easily from her shoulders she hardly had to massage them. Regina’s laugh may or may not have had something to do with it.

“Hey, you want help with those boxes?” asked Emma, figuring there wasn’t much reason to be moving in when they were going off world.

Regina stared at her for a moment, soaking up Emma’s youth and kindness all in that one smile. Crinkles appeared at the corners of Regina’s eyes as she smiled back and replied, “Yes, I’d like that.”

* * *

“Henry, I’m not going to say it again. Keep away from those phase-shift plasma turbines!”

Ruby walked alongside her friend and superior. She cast shifting glances between Emma and the exuberant child squeaking across the glossy hanger floor in his sneakers. “Does he know what phase-shift plasma turbines are?”

“He’s my son,” Emma stated. She shrugged like it wasn’t rocket science. “Of course he knows.”

Henry’s face lit up and he cried out, “They’re the things that make the starship go _whoosh_!”

His hand connected with the other in a resounding slap and took off like a starfighter launching from a runway.

Emma sported a similar grin. “See?”

“Yeah,” Ruby rolled her eyes, “you guys aren’t related _at all_.”

They were strolling past the line of starfighters, Ruby and Emma taking notes on operational readiness and Henry gaping in awe.

After a thorough study, he came to the conclusion that these transports were all of the same class. Each was designed in the shape of a triangle with convex noses and wings. Each wing had been fitted with two dorsal and two ventral stabilizer wings that gave the fighter unparalleled speed.

The craft was designed in two colors, one grey stripe down the center and a blazing gold on its wings. It came across just as sleek in the hanger as it did in space fully operational.

Unfortunately, Henry wouldn’t see the inside of one of those cockpits until he was at least 18. He hoped that by the time he was of age, his mom would have let him inside one – just to get a feel for the seat. For now he settled for viewing at a distance.

Henry turned his inquisitive eyes up to his mother and asked, “What kind are they?”

“Recon-A transports,” Emma explained. “They’re one of the fastest mass-produced starfighers in this galaxy. Every commissioned fleet vessel has three parked in their hangers. The _Storybrooke_ is a _Regal_ -class so it can fit seven.”

“Not if Admiral George has anything to say about it,” Ruby whispered from the corner of her mouth.

Emma cupped Henry’s ears and gave her a scolding look. “Not here, Ruby.”

Henry, pawing the hands off his head, continued to gawk at the squadron. His eyes went down the line, jumping from one fighter to the next. “What kind of blasters do they have?”

“They’re armed with RG-9 laser canons. They’re mounted there and there on each wing and can rotate sixty degrees up and down for greater fire control.”

“No torpedoes? That’s not a lot of firepower.”

“You’re right, but these are scouts not interceptors. We use these single pilot vehicles for reconnaissance. Speed is a huge factor in how scout classes are designed, so it’s ideal to have light artillery. Any weight on these things is devoted to hyperdrive function and engine thrusters.”

“Cool,” drawled Henry.

Their ears perked to the impeccable click of heels. Only one crewmember made that sound and strode that confidently. Each clack against the floor brought its owner closer to the group, thereby stirring their anticipation (for various reasons).

“Corrupting a new generation of pilots, I see.”

Emma threw Regina a baleful look that quickly turned to one of humor. She smirked. “That’s my job.”

“Interesting. Here I thought you couldn’t find your day planner with both hands and a scanner. Now you are tutoring. How impressive, Miss Swan.”

A snort uttered from Ruby who slapped a hand over her nose.

Henry’s shoulders jiggled to his laughter.

Emma shifted on her feet, folding her arms irately. “Laugh it up, guys.”

Regina’s pace slowed and came to a stop beside him. It brought relief to her upon hearing Emma’s decision to bring Henry along. Earth was no longer safe amidst Admiral George’s purge. Regina herself barely escaped untouched. And Emma… it didn’t matter if she was the Chosen One or not. George believed so, thus painting a target on anyone she held dear, meaning Henry.

She smiled, laying a hand on Henry’s shoulder and squeezing it affectionately. “Hello, Henry.”

He gave a toothy smile. “Hi.”

“Is your mother giving you a tour of our fine facilities?”

“While making on-the-job reports,” Emma cut in. She held up her clipboard as proof. “I can multitask, you know.”

Regina and Henry suppressed their grins and exchanged a glance only they could translate.

“So she likes to think,” she murmured, loud enough for Ruby and Emma to overhear.

They shared identical grins. Henry lent into her side like he had been doing it for years. Regina allowed it with warmth in her heart. She curled her arm around him as if it was in her nature to protect this boy.

It was then that Regina noticed the presence of her communications officer. Unaware that a smile was still fixed to her mouth, she said, “It is reassuring to know you were among the majority who stayed on. I cannot fault those that remained behind on Earth, but I acknowledge the risk you and others are taking by continuing your duties.”

Ruby, trying not to stare at Regina, fumbled for a reply. “I, uhm…”

She squinted, head rearing forward on her neck as if that gave her a better look at just who this nice, gentle woman was. Because it sure as seven hells didn’t resemble her captain. The only possible explanation that could reconcile herself to this transition was the amount of time Emma had said she and Henry spent with Regina.

“Ruu-hoo-hoo-by,” drawled Henry with a giggle.

Emma raised a brow at her friend’s lengthy deadpan. “Earth to Ruby.”

“ _Miss_ Lucas.”

That tone could snap a coma patient back to reality.

“Yep!” Ruby sucked her lips in, eyes widened expectantly. “I’m here.”

“You stayed,” Regina reiterated, a strange fondness in her eyes.

“Hey, if the captain _and_ the first officer go rogue it’s kind of expected for me to tag along, too. Can’t send a transmission or open a hail frequency without the communications officer, can ya?”

Emma feigned contemplation. “Eh, we could have found a replacement.”

Ruby asserted her elbow into the giggling ribs.

Arm still nestled around Henry, Regina shifted her gaze between the two friends. A slow, easy smile tugged at her lips.

“It is exciting, isn’t it?” Ruby asked, eyes lit up. “Flipping off Cosmofleet and the High Council… cruising at the altitude of our own instruments… staying up past our bedtime.”

Emma gave a lopsided grin and threw in slowly, “I guess.”

“Think about it. We’re outside Commonwealth jurisdiction. They have no power over us. Dad can’t even ground us.”

“No,” Emma grumbled in agreement, mouth turning grim just thinking of Admiral George as ‘Dad,’ “just court marshaled for treason.”

Regina did as Emma had before in cupping Henry’s ears. “Let’s leave that business for our upcoming senior officers’ meeting, shall we?”

“In that case,” Ruby’s hands came together with a clap and she looked down at Henry, “let’s get you some food. The dessert special today is beignets! Oh, those warm, powdered pillows of goodness… I could eat a dozen of them right now!” She bent down to grab a hold of his shoulders and stare deeply into his eyes. “ _Beignets_ , Henry. You might not remember, but last time you were onboard you couldn’t get them down fast enough.”

“Of course I remember,” Henry said, lolling his head like it was obvious. “I remember everything about this place!”

Emma chuckled and ruffled his hair.

Off to the side, Regina pressed her hands together and brought them to her smiling lips. She couldn’t help the swell of gratitude at his praise. Even if he didn’t remember – which he probably wouldn’t as he was only four at the time – Regina still blushed at the sentiment. Henry remembered the _Storybrooke_ in all its cutting edge glory. Even now his eyes sparkled at the grand scope of her pride and joy. His opinion was the only one that mattered.

And though he hadn’t said so, he certainly implied that he remembered the ship’s captain. The thought that Henry kept a place in his memory just for her brought tears to her eyes. Regina would never have imagined falling so hard for this child who adored her beyond all measure.

In the two years they had been apart she worried constantly for his wellbeing. Not a day passed when she didn’t hear the sound of his laughter in her head or remember the image of his smiling face and round cheeks just waiting to be kissed.

The only thing more concerning than his health was the idea that her name would disappear from his memory. She worried relentlessly that he’d forget their time together – the walks to the park, pancakes at the Classic, the hugs and kisses and unspoken promise of love.

She knew it was selfish of her to desire what was not in her power to obtain. She just couldn’t accept a reality where she would never be a part of him; that she would disappear from his world like a star winking out of the galaxy.

Exhaling a trembling breath, Regina shook off the lingering concerns. She focused on what lied within her grasp. Henry was there, with her, and he wouldn’t go anywhere anytime soon.

“I’ll take him to the mess hall,” Ruby offered.

“Want me to save a beh-yay for you, Mommy?”

Emma grinned from ear to ear and caressed her son’s cheek. “That’s sweet of you, but I’m trying to keep the extra pounds off.” She patted her hand to her stomach. “Go on and eat your heart out, kid.”

“We’ll be off then.” Ruby eyed the space between Regina and Emma, which had closed by the second since she made the mere suggestion of taking Henry off their hands. “I’m sure you two have important things to discuss.”

She steered Henry away by the shoulders. Before they got far she threw a wink over her shoulder.

Emma frowned.

“Something wrong?”

“Um, noo…” Emma dragged off. Regina clearly hadn’t seen the little signal Ruby sent, so she wouldn’t speak of it. Instead, she nudged her chin at the captain’s datapad. “Cargo inspections?”

“Yes, I just finished. We left Earth Space Dock in a hurry and I wanted to make sure we had enough supplies to last us until we arrived at Anderson’s base camp. Did Ren send you the coordinates?”

“Yeah, she gave directions in addition to her luck.” Emma made a face and added, “Although I don’t think luck is going to get us very far.”

“Nevertheless, I’ll take it.”

Tilting her head in curiosity, Emma mused, “I didn’t peg you as the superstitious type. I thought all the captains make their own luck."

“Normally, I do not believe in luck, however, I’m sure you will understand when I say these are extraordinary circumstances. Never before in Cosmofleet history has a commissioned vessel and its crew ‘gone rogue’ so to speak.”

The reality of their situation hit Emma and she nodded solemnly. “We’ll be working independently from the Commonwealth. That means we have to rely on external resources.”

“I just hope Anderson was sincere about the Raiders’ intentions. We need a safe haven right now and time to strategize a line of defense before Admiral George attacks. If Anderson turns out to be as conniving as Leopold, we will have more troubles than we can handle. The last thing we need is to be fighting a war on two fronts.”

“Luck it is then.”

Sighing, Regina turned her head as if the very idea sickened her. She didn’t like resorting to the notion, but it would appear that they had no other option. “Luck,” she agreed.

“Well, Belle has the coordinates locked in. Preflight check is complete; you’ll find all necessary details on your datapad. Rumple is ready to light the engines at your order.”

Regina nodded to her satisfaction. She had a sneaking suspicion Emma intended to meet _and_ exceed her expectations from here on out. Regina just didn’t understand why. But she wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth no matter how perplexing the gift.

She began walking the hanger gangway towards the turbolift. Swift boot heels followed bringing Emma in step with her captain.

They eased into companionable silence. It took very little prompting for present concerns to melt away. In the cool, cavernous hanger they were able to appreciate the fine ship on their hands and the dedicated crew at their disposal.

But just as soon as Regina noticed this tranquility a clamor of apprehension came over her. From the corner of her eye she spotted blissful content and the hint of a smile. Frowning, Regina returned her focus ahead.

Turbulent, unpredictable events had occurred over the past week leaving her to wonder about the state of her and Emma’s relationship. Among these pivotal events included Regina offering a legitimate apology and receiving a heartfelt pardon in return. She was also sure the word “friendship” came up. They had even managed to make fun of a subject that wracked at Emma since the day she heard the word “Chosen One.”

And there was more. Just a few hours since arriving Earthside, she and the Swans had somehow recaptured the trivialities of sharing a meal and engaging in friendly sim competitions. The ease with which they spent time together two years previous came back to them like a seamless thread of consciousness.

If those events didn’t cause Regina to take stock, surely the fact that her inviting Emma into her house was an indication of how far they had come since sparring over a broken decanter of apple cider. Opening a door had never been so symbolic of their relationship. Regina offered and Emma accepted if only to help carry a box or two, and when she finished she left unusually quickly and with an endearing stumble over the threshold.

To top it all off, none of this worried Regina as much as it absorbed her. She spent every waking minute – barring those spent on captain’s duties – thinking about Emma. She paid more attention to her body language as well as her own. Even in the late hours of their shifts, Regina found her attention fastened to the expressive tilts and slants of Emma’s mouth, never blinking, never breathing.

Now that they were aboard the _Storybrooke_ they hadn’t spent more than an hour away from one another. Regina actually grew more relaxed around Emma. She felt more lenient on her crew, proving just how much carefree attitude had rubbed off on her. Emma would definitely not let her live that one down. Ever.

Could it be that they were actually friends now?

That kind of question brought on more questions than answers. Regina shook her head, not wanting to delve into frivolities. Now was not the time to engage in friendships or talk of them. They had a mission ahead, perhaps their most dangerous one yet.

Emma’s arms swayed as she walked but were carefully kept out of proximity from Regina’s. They kept at a fixed pace, acknowledging crewmembers and making mental notes on the state of their ship’s hanger.

Crates and repulsorlifts lined either side of them as they walked past. Halfway to the turbolift, Regina spoke before she knew what she was saying.

“Amid all this deception and revelation we never got to talk about your graduating from the academy.”

Emma’s pace faltered for a moment, unclear whether it was triggered by the break in silence or the new subject. She quickly recovered. “What do you mean?”

Regina shrugged. “Leopold had his spies in Cosmofleet fix your scores so that you would pass. Doesn’t that make you angry? Embarrassed? When a person finds out their life has been tampered with, some form of response is expected.”

Emma paused, raising a brow. She wasn’t really sure she heard right. “You want me to go crazy and throw some shit around?”

“No, of course not. But knowing you…”

“You thought I would.”

“You are taking this better than I would have,” Regina admitted. Her arms swung at her sides, her eyes burning into the glossy iron-gray floor as they walked. “Whatever you are holding in – be it humiliation or resentment – if not released in a healthy way could mean disastrous consequences for everyone, not just yourself.” If that wasn’t clear enough, she got her point across by alternative means. Regina caught Emma’s eye, her head tipping to the side and the hardness in her eyes mellowing out to timid understanding. “You should talk to someone.”

Emma blinked. “Like a therapist? Ah, no, thank you. I had enough of those in the foster system. I don’t even think Counselor Nolan has the patience for my kind of issues and if she does then she’s an alien.”

Sighing, Regina wheeled around to stop Emma in her tracks. “I meant a friend, Miss Swan.”

For a moment Emma thought Regina was offering. But then that idea was extinguished by the ever-present indifference etched across her face. This was Captain Mills speaking, not the soft, unguarded woman recuperating on the Jolly Roger.

“Um, no,” she replied with a flinching shake of the head. “It’s enough that I know. I don’t want to see their pity.”

“If they pity you, than they are not really your friend, are they?”

Emma’s head snapped up to see the captain heading for the turbolift. Her silky brown hair swayed with her strides as she didn’t bother looking back to assess Emma’s response. Emma wondered if Regina still remained oblivious to the effect she had on her.

A slight grin twitched at the corner of her mouth, but she was just too elated to stifle it. Friend or not, Regina just defended her honor.

The turbolift’s interior bathed them in a harsh white light. They ascended through the decks, standing shoulder-to-shoulder and avoiding gazes.

Without warning, Regina slapped the panel. The lift ground to an abrupt halt.

Emma stared. “What…?”

“Do you remember when we were onboard the _Jolly Roger_?” Arms at her side, Regina didn’t yet turn to face Emma.

“…Yeah.”

“You and I had a heated exchanged regarding your intentions on Quarthos. You abandoned the ship to come back for me.”

Emma’s eyes danced across the lift doors. She hoped this wasn’t leading where she thought it was leading. “Yeah, I remember. You threatened me if I ever did it again. I think strangling was mentioned at one point.”

The small space they shared in the lift grew stagnant. Regina turned so they were face-to-face. Her eyes narrowed, accusing or imploring – she couldn’t decide.

“We may be even but you cannot stand there and think you can pull another stunt like that. One more harrowing rescue will not make a difference in how people see you. You are already the Chosen One, apparently. What good are you if you continue throwing yourself into dangerous traps?”

“Hold on. What does us being even have to do with me rescuing you – again if need be?”

“This is what I’m talking about,” Regina retorted, shaking her head in exasperation. “You think there is going to be a next time.”

“Well, if you would just stop throwing yourself into dangerous traps…”

“Do not sass me, Emma. This is serious. Thoughtlessness can turn a minor solar flare into a geomagnetic storm. Facing the Raiders like you did could have gotten you killed or captured. Do I have to remind you what 12,000 volts of electricity feels like coursing through one’s body?” Regina scoffed at the show of passivity. This would be easier if Emma actually put up a fight.

With one hand remaining immobile at her side, she brought the other to her hip. She stared Emma down and said, “Chosen One or not you have a son to think about.” Her finger rose, stopping Emma from interjecting. “I know you haven’t forgotten, but can you honestly say he was in your thoughts when you snuck up on a convoy of enemy vessels? Because if he had been I can guarantee that any mother would not have taken that risk.”

Emma took a deep breath and released it. “This is not about Henry,” she asserted calmly.

But Regina didn’t seem to hear. Her eyes were to the brim with unshed tears and the words came like a flood. “Henry loves you. He needs you. I don’t care about a gods damned prophecy; you are not blast proof, Emma. I appreciate what you did for me, but I cannot allow it to happen again. You risk too much.”

A part of Emma didn’t understand where Regina was going with this. Her captain had always been about duty and responsibility. Service to the fleet meant sacrifice. What the seven hells did she think Emma was doing when she went back to Quarthos? Sacrifice in the name of duty should have been acceptable. Even though it wasn’t Emma’s only reason for diving into danger, she couldn’t exactly give Regina the whole picture, could she?

“I risked what I needed to and I will do it again if and when the time comes.” Emma locked eyes with Regina. She inclined her head with urgency and repeated, “This is _not_ about Henry. This is about my actions as a first officer and how they affect our relationship.”

“Fine, then if this is not about Henry would you care to explain why you resigned from the fleet? I am owed an explanation.”

“What does it matter? I’m back,” Emma waved a hand at the disabled lift panel, “and it doesn’t look like I’ll be leaving any time soon.”

“It matters,” stressed Regina. She inhaled, fluttering her eyelashes as if she was leading into an explanation. But then something flashed before her eyes, triggering her defenses to rise. “It matters.”

Emma’s lips thinned as she deliberated with herself. Finally, she spoke. "The day before we infiltrated Xelphi Six you told me something. You said we take care of our own."

Regina narrowed her eyes. "Is that all?"

“I disobeyed protocol and came back for you because I couldn’t be a first officer _and_ the person who cares about you. For some people it would be an easy choice but not for me. It wasn’t a choice. Giving up didn’t even resemble an option in my mind.”

Regina felt her façade slowly slipping. “What do you mean?”

She knew exactly where Emma was going with this and a battle waged within her as a result. One part of her wished Emma to change the subject, leave it where it started, anything but follow through. The other part of Regina needed her to explain in detail. This care Emma spoke of… this caring that prevented her from doing her job… this caring for Regina that instigated her resignation… A piece so deeply seeded within Regina _needed_ to know.

Emma paused, licking her lips and shuffling her feet. When she couldn’t keep it in any longer she let out a rush of air and words. “I know you resent my leaving the _Storybrooke_ and I get it, but you’ve been punishing me every day since I came back.”

This set Regina back. She blinked in light of the abruptness of it. “I have been doing no such thing,” she shot back, a bit rankled.

“I don’t even think you notice what you’re doing, but if you did we probably wouldn’t be in this position. It’s not so much what you say or how you treat me. I know you hate that I left because I see it in your eyes. When I look at you – I mean _really_ look – you dodge my every glance. You don’t let me get too close. And when I do manage to get close it’s like the ice cold vacuum of space curling around a star. You’re glowing like the sun, but when I’m near you tremble.”

Regina swallowed. “If I tremble, what is that to do with me punishing you?”

“Because you keep it from me like you are now. Because you don’t even acknowledge the affect I have on you. Because you kid yourself into believing it means nothing.” Emma paused to gage a reaction. There was a furrow of doubt in Regina’s brow, the first sign of a break. When Emma spoke again she did so with her eyes moving over Regina like it would be her last chance. “You hide your tremble like a sin and that punishes me more than I can put to words.”

Regina fought to keep her eyes off the adoring shade of green but it proved difficult. She hardly felt the power associated with her title slip away. She lost all control over her faculties.

“Not everyone can wear such scars on their sleeves,” she murmured, disregarding the fact that by saying so she just gave Emma reason to wear her down.

Though Emma found it hard to breathe, she persisted in gravitating forward. She curled her hands into fists to keep them from tingling. Her eyes cascaded over Regina. She reflected with a whisper, “You tremble. I can feel it, Regina, and I’m not even touching you.”

I don’t do all that, Regina thought to herself. Or did she?

Emma’s eyes drew down to the chastising Regina’s bottom lip was getting. It was enough to knock the breath out of her.

Amidst self-reprimand and ruthless second-guessing Regina didn’t see it coming. She was too alarmed by her own actions, however improbable, to stop the onslaught.

Adoration had overcome Emma so intensely she hadn’t the power to stop herself. As soon as their lips touched, her eyes slipped closed. She hummed softly to the pressure of a mouth that cut her down, built her up, and did so all over again in a never-ending cycle.

They stilled in the kiss, chaste lips pressed together and solidifying the moment in time without doing so intentionally. It barely lasted a few seconds but before Emma withdrew she felt Regina’s lips part and her tongue flick. It was desperate and tender, but much too brief it could have passed for wishful thinking.

Emma inhaled sharply. Against her body’s wishes, she reeled back, eyes flying open.

Panic was staring back. Regina had her hand clamped over her mouth as if she couldn’t believe it either.

A moment passed that resembled rather minutes than seconds. Regina recovered by snapping her jaw shut and asserting a hand between them. Her fingers splayed out as if to ward off another ambush. She was shaking.

“What the hell was that?” she demanded, her voice more hoarse than usual.

“You kissed back,” Emma returned on instinct. She was not entirely sure if that was a good thing, Regina responding to her kiss.

“I did not. You kissed me. What were you thinking?”

Emma, jaw dropping and deadpan, reasoned, “You kissed back.”

Regina blushed from the neck up. “How foolish are you to think I would accept this? Accept you? We work together. I am your superior. This is intolerable behavior and cannot happen.”

“I’m in love with you!” Emma shouted, expression frozen in awe.

Regina’s mouth grew slack and she shook her head violently. She blinked through the fog of misunderstanding because that had to be it – misunderstanding. “How do you suppose I should react to hearing this?” Wincing in something resembling disapproval, she flourished a hand. “You are a _girl_. A young, impulsive thing that knows nothing of what she speaks of.”

“I’m in love with you,” Emma repeated, weaker only so as to get a handle on her emotions. She wiped a tear gathering at the corner of her eye. “Regina…”

“ _Don’t_. This is not behavior I expect to see in a first officer. _My_ first officer. Do I have to remind you how I run my ship?”

Emma bit back her immediate response. She sighed. “No.”

“Then how is it that I cannot keep one single first officer, just one who respects me and leads by my example. Why do they claim something that isn’t there? Why can’t they just _do their job_?”

“Because it’s not just a job. We work in harsh conditions millions of parsecs from Earth sometimes without the guarantee of returning, and we do it for the safety of people we’ve never met. We have no choice but to make our home here.” Emma emphasized by indicating to the ship around them. “The _Storybrooke_ is our home. These are our friends and family. You know me, Regina. I’ve never done it for the pay and I’m blasted sure I don’t do it for a bunch of strangers. I do it for Henry. I do it for you. As long as I’m alive there is no hellhole in the galaxy I wouldn’t sacrifice myself to in order to protect you.”

The voice, filled with passion and promise, grated against Regina’s will. She pressed her hands to her temples, squeezing her eyes shut. “Why?” she pressed. Her eyes opened and regarded Emma. “Why do you disappoint me? Now, after everything we’ve been through, you choose to spout such foolishness.” A grey pallor came over her as she replayed their past. Her heart sank just thinking of it culminating in the folly spoken of.

Sighing, she shook her head. The turbolift had filled with indescribable tension. She needed to breathe. She needed to think without Emma’s smell enrapturing her senses and those ardent eyes setting her skin afire.

It didn’t take much to reach out and restart the lift, but when she did she hardly remembered doing so. When she looked back at Emma her once eager, impassioned expression had dulled. Tragedy, heartbreak, confusion… Whatever stared back at Regina the least she could do was clarify for her.

“Whatever you think you feel for me is misplaced,” she explained evenly. They didn’t even resemble words to her. Everything from a syllable to the barest emotion felt like nonsense. Only twelve years of practiced nerve kept her going. “It is infatuation, nothing more. You have held on to this preconceived image of me since you were a cadet and you persist even after having met me.”

“You’re right.” Emma threw her hands up and let them fall against her thighs. She looked down at herself, letting out a humorless laugh. “You’re absolutely right. I was obsessed with you. It didn’t take a telescope to see, did it? But it’s been two years since I first stood here and looked you in the eyes. I’ve gotten to know the real Regina and I am telling you what I feel is not some messed up obsession-turned-infatuation.”

“You don’t know me,” Regina contended. She felt the vibrations in the lift and wished it would just arrive at their destination. Fate seemed to have other plans. It compelled her and Emma together in this moment, this lift, in this time and space.

Feeling the pressure like a slingshot around the moon, Regina moistened her lips in preparation. She tipped her head with as much understanding as could be mustered and reiterated, “You know nothing about me. That person you say you love is only a small part of me: the cadet who broke records, the first female commander in Cosmofleet history, the captain of this ship…” She closed her eyes and when she reopened them they were glistening. “I am more than that, Emma.”

The doors opened with a hiss. To Emma, it was like all the air had left the room. Her chest ached, her fingers were numb to their tips, and she had a feeling she might pass out. When she blinked there was nothing but a vacated space. No one felt more alone than she did in that lift. Something snapped in Emma, prompting her feet to move.

The last time she felt talked down to like this she had been sitting in a discussion group at the academy getting chewed out by her instructor. It had happened more often than she cared to admit. She received endless reprimands at the hands of those teachers. They not only thought they knew best, but held to the belief that they were superior to Emma in every way.

She hated that feeling. It made her sick to her stomach. Normally, she didn’t care what others thought of her unless it affected her schoolwork and now her relationship with Regina. Gods, she was so tired of taking this shit. She just wanted someone to stop and see through to her humanity.

Captain’s Quarters was just a few strides away. Emma took them like water in a desert, catching up to Regina before she could disengage the lock and shut her out.

“It doesn’t have to be a scar,” she implored. “We don’t answer to Command. You don’t have to hide the way you feel any more than I did.”

Emma latched on to her arm, gripping it in a fever of passion. She resorted to physical force in the hopes that a touch might spark some sense into her. Regina couldn’t fortify her heart forever. She was bound to falter. Like the rules Emma so tirelessly looked down upon, defenses were meant to be broken.

“This is not infatuation and it damn well isn’t puppy love. I know what I want and I know what I feel. Don’t you dare claim to tell me what I feel, Regina!”

The fight left Regina with her sagging shoulders. Refusing eye contact, she backed herself against the hatch to her quarters. “Please,” her voice broke over the ragged breaths, “please leave me be.”

She turned quickly and sealed shut the door behind her.

Blinking, Emma stared in abstract guilt at the barrier between them. She hadn’t the energy to feel much except guilt and regret. How could she have been so mistaken? It had been an irrefutable certainty that Regina would accept her advances and return them in kind. There hadn’t been a doubt in her mind, until now.

A noise sounded from the other side. Emma had to grab the wall to steady herself.

There were things in her past – regrettable, some unforgiveable things – she carried with her from day to day. She blamed herself for a lot of harm she had caused others, but she had never hated herself more in this moment. She was awash with shame.

The faint commotion inside the room persisted.

Shame didn’t cover it, Emma thought as she grazed the surface of the door with her fingertips. Shame didn’t cover what she felt when she was making the woman she loved fall into tears.


	12. Chapter 12

“Regina… hi. This is a surprise.”

“I’m sorry for not scheduling, but this is urgent.” Regina’s eyes swiveled down and around as she fiddled with the edge of her blazer. “I am not here in a professional capacity.”

The pains she took to avoid eye contact were not lost on Kathryn. The doctor’s face widened to the admission. She recovered with a little shake of her head and assured, “We’re friends, Regina. You can come to me for any reason, day or night.”

Stepping aside, Kathryn waved towards the sitting area. She watched with concern as Regina walked slowly in and navigated around the coffee table. She carried herself like brittle glass. The Captain Mills Kathryn knew could break glass with a stolid glare. This Regina wore a face clouded in trepidation. Either she didn’t know whether to sit or stand, or she was undergoing a personality crisis.

Kathryn rounded the couch to get some tea while keeping an eye on her guest.

This was a marked difference from her last visit. Regina appeared to lack the stiffness she had so often been associated with. Even around her friend, Kathryn, she couldn’t let down her guard. Now she showed up, unannounced and profusely sorry for it.

When was the last time Regina apologized? Kathryn searched her memory and came up empty. The last time Regina stopped by she was all “The captain does not make appointments” and now it was all apologies and urgency.

Kathryn allowed the oddness of the moment to succumb her for a minute before shaking it off.

“Tea?”

Regina jumped. She pressed her hand to her chest and caught her breath.

“I’m sorry for startling you,” Kathryn said. She offered the cup and saucer with a smile.

“No, thank you.”

She didn’t so much sit as she did ease down. Again, it was as if one wrong move would mean disaster. Consequently, Kathryn treaded carefully.

“You seem edgy today.” She smiled despite herself. Walking on eggshells around Regina was not really her forte. For a psychologist, she did not pace her patients’ time well, or her friends’. When she received nothing in response she gave out a sigh and tossed up her hands. “Alright, this isn’t working for me. I know something is wrong, so can we just skip the run around?”

“Excuse me?”

A hint of fire sparked in Regina’s eyes. It was as close to life as Kathryn had seen that day, but she’d take it. “I’m not taking your deception today. Answer my question: what is wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Well, thanks very much for stopping by. Nice chat.” Abruptly, Kathryn slapped her hands to her knees and pushed up. She waved a hand to the door. “If you would be so kind as to leave…”

“Wait!”

Kathryn looked back, intrigued. She scrutinized the panic written across Regina’s features before sitting back down. “I know you don’t like being spoken to in this way, but you can’t exactly suspend me, Regina. I work for Command, not you.”

“Technically, neither of us answers to Command now.”

Kathryn nodded. “True. I am here of my own free will.”

“Thank you, by the way,” Regina said, dipping her head graciously. “I really feel safer knowing I have crew like yourself staying on.”

“You mean crew that do not easily back down?” She laughed, and looked at Regina pointedly. “I can think of only one other person who would do what I just did.”

A marked transition passed over Regina’s face. She inhaled sharply, lips parted. Panic came flooding back. It invaded her so strongly she could not speak of it.

“It’s Emma, isn’t it? She’s why you’re here?”

Regina’s eyes flicked up and beheld her friend and confidante. She turned wary, searching Kathryn for honesty. “What if she is?”

Taking it as an invitation, Kathryn sat back down. “The last time we talked I convinced you to get closure. Instead you got Emma and a weeks' worth of evasion. She didn’t tell you why she left, did she?”

“I’m more perceptive than you give me credit for.”

“Then you didn’t like what she had to say,” gathered Kathryn. Based on the stiffening back she concluded right. “Whatever reason she gave you, it has to be worth knowing than wondering. If it wasn’t for me you’d be stuck with that android first officer you wanted and no closer to answers.”

“You expect me to thank you for that?” Regina sneered. “Everyone would have been better off if I stayed away in the first place. We would not be in this position if I had not…”

Her eyes fell closed. It proved exhausting having to tip toe around every little thing that came out of her mouth. She was in a position to confide in her friend and she just couldn’t come out with it.

Regina scrubbed her clammy palm against her thigh. She picked at the crease in her pantsuit. Finally, the words made their escape. “She couldn’t do her job anymore because she says she loves me. She kissed me.”

There was a brief pause of contemplation before Kathryn came back to her senses. “Before she resigned?”

Regina gave her a withering look. “An hour ago, Kathryn.”

“… Oh.”

“What?”

“It’s just… I didn’t know you were into women, but –“

“But what?” Regina shot back testily.

“But Emma…” She dragged off hoping Regina caught her drift. “I mean, you knew all along, didn’t you? You’ve known her long enough.”

Regina shut her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose. “Listen to me, dear. I am not nor have I ever been with Emma Swan.”

“So you’re not gay.”

“No. Yes.” Regina squinted, shaking her head. “I mean…”

Kathryn couldn’t help the smile. “You are gay, just not gay for Emma.”

“No… I don’t know. This really has nothing to do with sexual orientation, Kathryn. Can you please look at the bigger picture here and stop fixating on a non-issue?”

“Good, because it’s 2260 and many of us could care less what color, temperament, or species you sleep with. The only thing I’m concerned with is how you feel.”

“Don’t shrink me, Kat. I am _not_ in the mood.”

She calmed her with a patting hand to the air. “That’s not how I meant it. You may hate my guts for advising you to go back to Earth, but you can’t sit there and tell me it wasn’t worth it. Regina…” Kathryn sighed, taking in the room with its green and blue. The colors of the sea failed to grace her with their tranquility. “We’ve known each other for two years. You know I uphold a strict code of honor and attention to rules, however, when it comes to my crew I tend to… wander from procedure. You are one of the few in Cosmofleet who understands the banality of orders given from lightyears away. I hold the needs of my patients’ mental stability above those of the fleet.”

“I know,” Regina asserted thoughtfully. “And I respect that.”

“So when I suggested you see Emma I suggested it to my friend not my captain. Believe me when I say I don’t care about regulations or some stupid chain of command.”

“Let’s not go that far.”

Kathryn chuckled. “Okay, okay. So Emma kissed you. She says she loves you.”

“Yes, and you can see how that puts our work relationship at a disadvantage. I’m not about to dismiss her from duty, but she has to understand that there are reasons why this is unethical. Feelings cloud judgment.”

“We’re not androids, Regina. If we were there would be no reason for the fleet. Everyone would simply fall into line and say their pleases and thank yous.”

“If only all my officers would behave as you describe,” Regina commented, rolling her eyes. She sank back into the sofa, propping her elbow on the armrest to hold up her head. “If only Waylor had proved his worth as a first officer, I wouldn’t have to deal with this.”

Kathryn narrowed her eyes, turning over the statement. “Waylor was quite the burden, wasn’t he?”

“An _immense_ burden,” Regina calculated with widened eyes.

Kathryn nodded, pursing her lips. She crossed one leg over the other and clasped her hands on her knee. “He was ineffectual and borderline noncompliant.”

“He went over my head on a number of issues and that is just the tip of the vibroknife.”

“You mentioned a few times that everything broke around him. And you didn’t let him back into the shuttle after he nearly clipped a ridge on Tume.”

“He couldn’t pilot an anti-grav sled,” Regina spouted, looking off into the distance with a sour look.

“In fact, he wasn’t like Emma at all.”

“Well, of course he wasn’t –“ Regina cut herself off with a glare. She cocked her head. “And you call me deceitful.”

Kathryn stifled a laugh. If she couldn’t one-up the captain in the sim she could certainly do it with words. “Now, now Regina,” she soothed with a relaxed smile. “Be honest with yourself. You didn’t dislike Waylor because of his extreme lack of talent. If you did you would have just tossed him back and got another. Instead his presence was a punishment.”

“I hardly think keeping him on was hindering his abilities. He couldn’t sink any lower, Kathryn.”

“Punishment for _you_. Emma had just resigned and you were angry and confused. You didn’t understand why she left, so you put undue pressure on yourself.”

“I wasn’t blaming myself. It wasn’t my fault that she left.”

“Fine, you were not to blame, but that does not acquit you from making a poor replacement’s life one of the seven hells.” She chuckled despite the gravity of Regina’s consequences. “You can’t believe that your treatment of Waylor was entirely fair. Emma planted quite a bit of anger and confusion in you and whether you did so consciously or not you took all those negative emotions out on Waylor.”

Annoyance flushed Regina’s cheeks. “Why? Why on Earth would I punish myself with an incompetent first officer when she was the one who discarded the position in the first place!”

Kathryn didn’t bat an eye. “Because if you were to accept that you missed Emma and felt abandoned by her absence, then that would have proved your mother right. Marriage and children are a detriment, that’s what you learned from Cora. By accepting any emotional reaction to Emma’s departure you would have failed your mother. You would have embraced a petty emotion that had no place in a career driven life. If you accepted Emma, that would be a stain on Daniel’s memory.”

Regina would have shot up off the sofa if it were not for the heaviness of heart. With the mention of his name she was weighed down by every minute she ever spent in mourning. She shot Kathryn a brutal look and ground out, “You turn my own words against me. I revealed those things in confidence.”

“And are we not still in each others’ confidence? I bring up your history, Regina, not to anger or punish you, but to help you evaluate the choices you have made in the past, choices that have brought you to this point.”

Regina was shaking her head, frantic to keep out the voice of supposed reason. “This isn’t fair, what you’re doing. I came here to talk about Miss Swan and now you’re bringing him up.”

“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but life isn’t fair. Whether we’re talking about Emma, your mother, Daniel, Wayor, or the technician on E Deck, they’re all connected. And you know what? Maybe it is unfair. You’re already dealing with a lot on your plate. Maybe it’s better not to make any hasty decisions in light of our little excursion from Commonwealth space and treason and the prophecy…”

“You know about the prophecy?”

“Well, this is a starship and correct me if I’m wrong, but gossip does tend to spread in close quarters.”

Regina gave a weary roll of her eyes. “That or Ruby Lucas. I assume everyone knows now?”

“Yes, which puts more pressure on the captain.”

Kathryn fiddled with a loose thread on the sofa. It occurred to her then, the forces Regina would be facing in the coming days and how much she would need her crew beside her. She needed Emma and in more ways than she could possible grasp. If chaos and war ensued, one must be prepared. Perhaps Regina had to come clean with her suspicions in order to weave clear lines of communication with her first officer. It didn’t help to be on different pages when one was in the thick of a dogfight.

Before she could edit her strategy, Kathryn found herself speaking. “Regina, what was your first instinct when Emma kissed you?”

Taken aback by the gall, Regina nearly choked. “Pardon?”

“Or your first thought. Either one.”

Regina’s mouth worked but no words came. “I…”

“It’s not that hard. Just say whatever comes to mind.” She raised her fingers in the air and prompted for an answer. “Come on, Regina. Stream of consciousness. This is psych 101. I know you took the course.”

Regina cocked her head admonishingly. “How can I think when you are snapping your fingers in my face?”

“Sorry. Continue.”

“I don’t know if I should.”

“Is that because you would be ashamed? Because regulation and integrity look down upon whatever you might have felt when Emma confessed her feelings?”

“No,” Regina insisted.

But Kathryn nodded to the contrary. “Getting involved with a fellow officer – a first officer no less – would compromise your objectivity.”

Regina scowled. It was no longer about what was inappropriate. “When I met her and as we started working together I never used to care what she thought of me. I didn’t care how she…”

“What?”

She withdrew her fingers from her throbbing temple and let out her breath in a rush. “She’s young and impulsive. She doesn’t know what she wants. Her whole life has been one challenge after the other and now the Raiders are asking her to lead. She just doesn’t want the responsibility, but the alternative is just as disagreeable. Cosmofleet betrayed her just as it did the rest of us.”

Her stomach roiled at the thought. She would not give them the benefit of the doubt after putting her crew in danger, and Emma… Regina curled an arm around her stomach. Her eyes were downcast as she admitted softly, “It’s not about regulation. It’s not even about my objectivity. Emma is a compassionate woman and has become a worthy officer to this ship, but she is as careless with her life as when we first met. I cannot trust her not to do the same with…”

Kathryn waited in the stillness, lips parted and breath held. It was her heart, she thought. The notion dawned on Kathryn like a spectacular sunrise.

“Do you love her?”

Regina’s eyes flicked up in their glassy state. They were filled with sorrow and regret but so much restrained passion just waiting to be unleashed. Her lips trembled despite her efforts to pin them closed.

“Oh, Regina.”

Kathryn rose with arms outstretched. Regina sucked in a breath, hand held up to stop her. She shook her head. “No, I’m fine.” It took a moment to gather herself. After a quick, proper swipe under her eyes and tug to her wrinkled shirt, Regina fashioned a dry, piercing stare.

In all their time as friends Kathryn would not be fooled. If only Regina could see how all the tricks to cover up the truth were for nothing. Appearances for professionalism’s sake only managed to damage her armor further. Regina looked just as haunted now as when she came in.

“I apologize for intruding on your time. I will set up an appointment in the future.” Regina’s breath rattled in her chest. “If you will excuse me.”

Something told Kathryn that Regina needed her space. Despite every molecule in her body urging her to go after her fleeing friend, this was something Regina had to work out on her own. Like rehabilitating a desolate planet, sometimes it was best to step back and let things unfold. Life and love always found a way.

Sighing, Kathryn drew her fingers through her hair. She massaged her scalp, soothing the concerns embroiling beneath.

Not much later, she was tending to her aquarium when a knock sounded from the door. When she padded over to the door and released the lock nothing could have prepared her for who stood on the other side.

“Hi,” Emma greeted. Her thumbs were stuck in her back pockets and she shifted on her feet in an awkward state of anxiety.

“Um,” Kathryn closed her jaw and feigned a smile. “Emma, this is a surprise.”

“Yeah, I uh… I know I didn’t make an appointment for today…”

“You’re not the first,” Kathryn let slip and fought to slap a hand over her mouth. This was not how she imagined her afternoon. She blamed her misstep on the unpredictable nature of the day.

Still established in the corridor, Emma raised her brows expectantly. “So… can I come in?”

Despite her apprehension, Kathryn decided to uphold the code of confidentiality. She smiled kindly and gestured inside. The moment Emma passed, Kathryn closed the door with a roll of the eyes. When she turned she had on an expression of cordiality.

“So how are things with you?”

* * *

Regina had been working on autopilot since she fled Kathryn’s office. In her distracted state it didn’t make sense to carry out her duties in a crowded area. So instead of suffering on the main bridge she had Ruby divert all transmissions to her quarters.

There, sitting at her desk, Regina delegated in peace. Marbles of Newton’s cradle clacked against each other, lulling her into consolation.

When her head slumped forward she roused alert. She blinked vaguely around her. Everything in her quarters remained as it were, except herself. A great deal weighed heavy on her shoulders, reminding her every minute of every day how close she tread near disaster. It didn’t help that she hadn’t slept in two days.

Her door chimed.

“Come in.” She waved an indifferent hand and covered her weary eyes with the other.

Sneakers squeaked across the glossy corridor floors. The familiar sound triggered Regina’s head to snap up. She rounded her desk and met Henry halfway in a hug.

“Henry,” she breathed, hoping at the back of her mind it didn’t sound too needy.

Ruby appeared in the doorway, arms crossed and a hip cocked out. “The communications panel doesn’t have nearly enough buttons for the little monster to press. He wanted to see you. Apparently _you’re_ more interesting than angular resonant frequencies.”

Regina supplied a smirk and looked back down to Henry. His cheeks puffed out around a charming grin. “Hello,” she cooed, smoothing her thumb against his cheek.

Toschie was held tightly to his side as he teetered from foot to foot. A fierce blush colored his face. “…Hi.”

“Has Miss Lucas been boring you with funny equations?”

He nodded emphatically.

“Traitor,” Ruby muttered. “You loved me when I put three beignets in front of you.”

“Mm,” Henry hummed, tongue roving mindlessly over his lips in memory, “they were really good though!”

Regina’s laugh encouraged the rosy hue to the other woman’s cheeks.

“Still.” Ruby gave a huff and cocked her head at her captain. “Anyway, if you’re swamped with work I’ll drop him off with Emma.

Ruby motioned to take Henry’s hand and Regina started.

“No!” She froze, Henry’s hand clutched in hers and squeezing in fright. Regina’s wide eyes shifted from Henry to Ruby. Shaking her head in apology, she eased her grip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap.” Swallowing down the thickness, Regina fixed a smile. “I don’t mind taking care of him for a few hours.”

“No problem.” Ruby shrugged as if she hadn’t seen her captain stake her claim. “See ya later, Henry.”

He waved goodbye and turned back to Regina with an open expression. His stuffed polar bear was held fast to his body. While swaying from side to side, his fingers picked absently at the animal’s fraying black nose.

Regina smiled and tickled the furry bear’s tummy where Toschie liked best (as Henry instructed her).

At six years old Henry was entering a trying time all children faced. Weaning off comfort objects didn’t come without its obstacles. Henry refused to leave Earth without at least ten of his prized possessions including his blankie and three members from his kingdom of stuffed animals. Though most of his friends at school could live a few days without fuzzy bears, it was hardest on Henry because these things were the only source of security he had when his mother was away. Though he may not remember, the year Emma had served on the _Storybrooke_ instilled great anxiety in Henry that two years later lingered like a shadow.

Suddenly, an idea struck Regina.

She bent down to meet his eyes and kept her voice low as if she was divulging privileged information. “How would you like to go to a secret place?”

Henry and “secret places” had long been two inseparable things. Like many creative children, he loved his sheet forts and hidden treasure maps.

His mouth opened in an ‘o.’ Then, realizing the secrecy and where the offer had originated, he hunkered down and whispered lowly, “On the ship?”

Regina nodded, trying not to grin like a fool and failing utterly.

“Can I bring Toschie?”

“Of course,” she replied with a laugh. Her heart tugged at the display of purity and beauty in his one smile. He hugged the stuffed polar bear to his chest, the matted, furry head smushed under his chin. “In fact, I think Toschie will absolutely love where we’re going.”

They took a turbolift ride up several decks. Much to Henry’s disbelief, it came to stop at the topmost part of the starship: the observation room.

“Whoa!”

His exclaim echoed through the large, mostly empty room. The ceiling was made of transparisteel and formed a dome separating luxury from the vacuum of space. Couches lined the unblemished wall and round divans were spaced out for social occasions. It was a space for lounging and for unwinding, for light conversation and quiet diversion. Everyday hassles had no place where the cosmoscape hovered.

Henry’s neck craned to take in the majestic scope.

“It’s normally unoccupied. I cannot see why as it’s a lovely place to sneak off to between the work hours.”

“ _Cool_.”

What she failed to tell him was that the room closed down from time to time on her orders. There were very few places a captain could hide away from nosy crew. Even in her private office she could be reached by a simple transmission. The observation room, however, contained no intercom, holoscreens, gaming systems – the usual distractions. By closing it down to crewmembers it became a guarantee of solitude.

Henry flopped down on one of the round divans and Regina lay down beside him. On their backs, side-by-side, they stared up at the stars. Black and white sneakers dangled over the edge of the sofa, occasionally bumping against Regina’s slender calves.

Henry giggled amidst their game, his toe tapping when she nudged back.

“Sometimes,” Regina broke the silence, content written in her heart, “it’s easy to forget what lies outside these bulkheads. The _Storybrooke_ is so big, so important. So many responsibilities that make us loose sight of where we are.”

“I wouldn’t forget,” Henry affirmed matter-of-factly. “We’re like grains of sand and space is like an _ocean_.”

He fell quiet, eyes taking in infinity but only getting as far as a half parsec. He wished he could see to the galaxies beyond, try as he might.

“I like coming up here,” Regina said. She nodded as if in agreement to herself. She hummed, drinking in the clarity. “It frees a cluttered mind.”

“And it’s pretty.”

“That too.” She tilted her chin towards him, still beholden to the stars. She revealed in the barest murmur, “This is my favorite spot.”

Eyes fixated above, he flopped his hand out, palm up. “It’s my favorite spot, too,” he whispered back (extra conspiratorially).

She smiled and took his hand. The little squeeze he gave her had her blinking back tears.

When at last she bit back her emotions, Regina turned her head and rested her cheek against the plush sofa. She watched Henry watch the stars and thought how precious this life was, how much he meant to her. How could this boy be a detriment? Such absurdity.

Cora may have been a mother, but she had never once in her life looked at a child and felt reverence in their light. She kept to the shadows where detachment and obligation held dominion over her own daughter.

But Cora had been wrong. So, so wrong.

Regina felt the hand in hers. She held it, allowed it to bring her comfort and she accepted what that meant. Having Henry there beside her brought more comfort than the stars ever could. Despite having lost many hours of sleep over war, treason, and a kiss in a turbolift, Regina found herself breathing easy.

“Hey, what’s that? A comet?”

Regina squinted in the direction his little finger pointed in. A nameless shape stood out among the black velvet of outer space. It was brighter than all the stars, and moving at a rapid pace. “No,” she murmured, frowning. She surged up to get a better look. “It’s too fast to be a comet, and it lacks a dust trail.”

“It’s coming towards us. Oh, it’s a starship! A really big one!”

“Yes, dear,” she whispered, not at all sharing in Henry’s enthusiasm.

Its grey hull was dull enough in color to be visible against pitch space. The craft had a bubble-like shape with several orb sections bonded together. No sign of viewports or doors. No discernible features to indicate bow from stern.

“Is it a friendly starship?” he asked, tilting his head at the unidentified craft.

An uneasy sensation prickled at the back of Regina’s neck. “I don’t think so, Henry.”

* * *

“Will we be upholding the usual status quo here today?”

Emma tilted her head. “Um…”

“That Regina has no indication of you being here.”

“Oh, right. Yes.”

“Brandy?”

There was movement from out the corner of Emma’s eye that drew her to the drink cart. Kathryn stood hovering over two glasses and a decanter of mahogany-hued liquor. Caught off guard by the offer, Emma worked her mouth into a stilted, “N-no, thanks.”

“No?” Kathryn sighed and began pouring a liberal helping. “Too bad.”

When she came to sit on the opposite sofa she curled her feet under her and brought her glass up to sip. Emma raised a brow at the informal display and was reminded of her previous visit. Her first impression of Kathryn had been friendly and bold to the point of intruding. Even if she was a psychologist and beholden to doctor/patient confidentiality, Emma kept herself on guard. The sweat pants and wool socks were misleading enough.

“So,” Kathryn began, tucking her drink to her chest protectively. “How have you been?”

“You hear about the prophecy thing?”

“I have, yes.”

“Care to ask me that question again?”

Breaking out into a grin, Kathryn regarded her glass. She used her index finger to polish the rim as she tilted her head in contemplation. “That’s not why you’re here.”

Emma guffawed. “Where did you get your degree from again? A divination university?” Dead silence proved that Kathryn had actually been serious. Emma cleared her throat. “You’re right, though. The prophecy may be a huge source of anxiety for me, but that’s not what I want to talk about.”

“Go on.”

Emma leaned forward, elbows on her knees and rubbing her hands together. She stared at the coffee table in thought. “Henry’s father was a shipwright. You know – the people that build entire mulit-deck sections of a hull and weld it all together. He was the type to get down on his knees, reach through twisted machinery with his bare hands, and make something beautiful happen. He was stationed at Boston Shipyard, working on what would become the most spectacular vessels known to humanoids.

The smile of memory waned on Emma’s paling face. Her hands scrubbed together harder. “I was still at the academy at the time, so you can imagine the pressure he felt when we found out I was pregnant.”

“Shipwrights don’t earn that much,” Kathryn observed, “which is quite unfair considering the majesty of what is created at their hands. It must have been difficult for him. For yourself as well what with your schooling.”

“I didn’t see it coming,” Emma mumbled. She stared off into her past, not really tending to Kathryn’s presence. “Sometimes I thought he would stay. Other times – bad times – I thought he would pack up and travel a thousand lightyears away just to escape responsibility of being a dad. Neither of those options came to be true. I always used to think reading people’s intentions came naturally to me. Until I found out two months later that he had been working on the U.S.S. _Fitzgerald_ the day of the crane accident.”

Kathryn covered her gasp. She remembered that day. The news reports flooded in with holos of a repulsor failure, the screams, a plunge into a death trap of steel… That accident changed everything about the way shipyards were run. It proved just how naïve society behaved toward limitless artificial intelligence. It didn’t matter how many safety tests a repulsor-operated crane passed. Technology may be fool proof on a data pad, but humanoids were not.

Emma hardened her face and continued. “Two years ago the Raiders blew a mile long hole outside the Presidio. At the time of rescue operations I was searching for Henry in that field of twisted metal and duracrete and all I could think about was losing Henry the way I lost Neal. And how I should have paid more attention.”

“What does paying attention have to do with Neal’s death?” Kathryn asked, curious.

“I never used to see people the way I do now.”

“And how is that?”

A ragged exhale rushed out of Emma. She dragged her fingers through her sleep knotted hair and replied in an irate tone, “I ignored the reasons. I was too busy freaking about the pregnancy to bother asking the right questions. I didn’t figure out why he left, why we couldn’t be a family. By the time I came to my senses he’d…”

Emma covered her face with her hands and bent over. The bile tickled the back of her throat, her hands were clammy, and she might as well have been pregnant and freaked all over again. Just speaking of it had her reliving all the torrential feelings she thought were shut out. She thought she built herself up to withstand this kind of nausea.

She squeezed her eyes shut, inhaled slowly through her nose, and let it go through her mouth. She did that a few times before staggering up.

“Here,” Kathryn said, handing her a tall glass of water. “This will help.”

Emma took it with a gracious “Thanks,” but when the rim touched her lips she could only stomach a mere sip. Her eyes flicked up to see Kathryn seated across from her with something resembling a blank canvas expression. The next sigh from Emma eased the tightness in her gut. “Thank you,” she reiterated, hoping the doctor understood.

Kathryn nodded. Being a psychologist these seven years didn’t give her zero know how. When a patient freaked out or crumbled into tears sometimes it was best to just let them have their moment. Soothing the distressed soul did not always come in the form of hug, a hand, or an understanding tear. Sometimes it took a minute of silence, a moment coming from a place of impartiality. Perhaps even something as practical as offering a glass of water.

“It’s not fish water,” Kathryn pointed out, glancing at the scarcely drunk glass. “I swear.”

Emma noted the aquarium behind her and turned back with a grin. “Of course. No, I’m just not that thirsty.” She returned her gaze to the creatures suspended in the tank. A few glowed in myriad pastels. “Are those unemonoids from Bota Baui? I noticed their bioluminescence under the tank’s black light.”

“From Bota Baui, yes. You’re very observant, Emma. You happen to be the first person to correctly identify any of those fish.”

Emma shrugged. “I watch a lot of holo programs on my off days. Can’t say it’s by choice. Henry has me sit in front of the Nat Geo channel every morning.”

Kathryn laughed pleasantly and took a drink from her whiskey. “Seems to me you haven’t lost your powers of intuition,” she commented gently.

“I’ve still got enough for the fishies.”

Smiling, Kathryn tilted her head. “That’s nice and all, but I’m not taking the bait.” At Emma’s raised brow, she set her glass down to the coffee table with a dull tap and fixed a serious mien. “You’re more transparent than you think, Emma.”

“Well,” Emma uttered a nervous laugh, “you’re just really perceptive.”

“So is Regina.”

“What does Regina have to do with me misjudging Neal?”

“I didn’t say there was a connection, but since you brought it up…”

Emma’s hands fell at the wrists as they rested on her knees. She shook her head, wondering, surly, “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“I’ll answer by asking _you_ a question: Are _you_ willing to let Regina go?”

“No,” she answered instinctively. Recent events had her face scrunching in doubt. She diverted her gaze to the side as something crept up her spine, something vaguely resembling reproach. Regina’s words, so icy and yet so blistering, coiled around her heart and squeezed. “I… I don’t know.” Emma stared absently, expression open for the ache to seep in. “She just – I mean, you’re her friend. How do you get her? There are times I see kindness and understanding and humor, even, but then she can be so brutal.”

Kathryn took a minute to soak in Emma’s question. It wasn’t easy. Over the years she had grown close with Regina whilst hearing a lot of comments about her friend both as a ship’s counselor as an open ear on the _Storybrooke_. Most if not all had been complaints.

As ship’s counselor, the guidelines required her to take a stance of objectivity. With Emma sitting in the same spot Regina had been in not an hour earlier, and considering their dramatic impasse, an unsettling feeling came over Kathryn. That unsettling feeling told her impartiality had just gone flying out the airlock.

Suddenly, she became gripped by nerves. She was treading a fine line. This wasn’t just about confidentiality to her commander. This was about confidentiality to her friend.

So at the risk of causing more suffering, she refused to take sides. Kathryn would support _both_ her friends.

“Regina may be a hard ass but she uses threats to avoid the personal risks,” Kathryn began. “There are things in each of our selves that scare us beyond rationality, things that reach the depths of a person and make them act in a way they don’t recognize or won’t acknowledge. Regina doesn’t want to be controlled like that. She won’t allow herself the freedom of passion and instinct. She’s afraid to be harnessed by raw emotions because of… Well, this is walking the fine line of doctor/patient confidentiality not to mention the privacy between two friends, but I can see how genuine your concern for her is. I will say that it has to do with her mother and how the academy molded her into the commander she is today. There are other causes, of course, many of them stemming from Regina herself, but when it comes to the durasteel thick bulkheads she surrounds herself with, responsibility lies with Cora and Cosmofleet.”

“Regina applied to the academy a full two years earlier than what is standard.”

Emma didn’t know what she meant by the statement. She was trying and failing Regina in nearly all aspects: understanding her heart, her mind; cementing a working relationship as well as a friendship and, to her utter embarrassment, a romance. Stating her thoughts out loud felt like the only solution.

“I cannot say whether it was her decision or Cora’s. Regina has revealed to me very little of her history before she attended the academy. To discuss it further would breed needless assumptions. If you truly want to know I suppose the only source would be Regina.” Kathryn narrowed her eyes. “But you don’t seem keen on that idea.”

“The last time I consulted her she…”

Emma felt the cold of space consume her. She shivered under its domain and likened herself to a frightened cub in the wilderness. Ironically, that was exactly how she had behaved lately: a cub; inexperienced, selfishly demanding and asserting things either untrue or not ready to be relinquished. She was out of her element, second-in-command to a crew who probably looked at her and saw extreme youth, naiveté, and irresponsible dreams. Emma possessed a fly-at-the-seat-of-her-pants mentality that put herself and others in danger. Consequently, that recklessness triggered a woman to flee from her, a woman who was perhaps unprepared for the feelings directed at her. Emma expected too much, too soon from Regina.

Kathryn watched the transformation take place from a few feet away. A stab of remorse affected her. She knew she had to ask even though Regina had apprised her of the situation. One wouldn’t find “playing dumb” in the psychiatrists’ book of standard procedure, but then Kathryn never had been a by-the-book psychiatrist.

“What happened, Emma?”

The soft-spoken voice barely made it through the thickness surrounding Emma. Her head was swimming with self-loathing and condemnation. Her vision blurred with the stuff that had filled Regina’s eyes when Emma had tried to explain herself. Oh, gods, she thought. What on Earth had happened?

“I made a huge mistake,” she choked. Her hand came up to clamp over her mouth. She choked again over her sob, ducking down as her shoulders trembled with guilt. She found it hard to breath with this sickness. There was no other word for it. She was sick and terrifying. “I’m a blasted child,” Emma spat, looking down at herself and cringing at what she saw, not her outward appearance but what rot within. “I’m a fucking child… H-how did I get here?” She raised her head, looking to Kathryn for the answer. “Huh? How did I go from below average cadet to this?!” she motioned to herself, disgusted. “I’m not a first officer. I don’t deserve the rank of lieutenant commander. Give it to someone else, Kathryn. You have to. I can’t carry these people with it. I can’t carry Regina!”

Kathryn opened her mouth, but could say little. She gaped at Emma who shot up from the sofa and began pacing. Her hands were latched to her head, nails digging into scalp and probably breaking skin. Emma’s hiss of pain triggered Kathryn to action.

“Stop!” she shouted, grabbing Emma by the hands and forcing them down. She had a duty as a doctor to prevent harm from coming to _Storybrooke’s_ crew, but as de facto friend of the captain it became paramount to safeguard the well being of this crazed woman. Regina may say a lot of mean things and utilize threats of airlock termination, but she wouldn’t want anything like _this_. “Stop this, Emma! I don’t want to see this self-pity! You are way too stubborn to give up. Now snap out of it!”

The hands that had covered Emma’s head drew painstakingly down her face and when they came away they had nothing to reveal but devastation. If Kathryn had known Emma long she would have been taken aback. In no universe did Emma give up. She fought, tooth and nail, to protect her dignity. Now that fight was crumbling before Kathryn, making wet her soft, white carpet.

It pained her to see Emma ache like this, knowing she was not to blame. But to reveal this kindness would be breaking the trust she shared with Regina. That, indeed, would be crossing a line, and Regina would have every right to punish Kathryn for it. She entrusted highly sensitive thoughts and feelings to her friend not her therapist. And, unbeknownst to Regina, Kathryn figured out the rest even if Regina hadn’t fully accepted it yet. She couldn’t even put it to words, thus relying on her traitorous eyes to speak for what her heart could not allow. Regina’s face conveyed more than she would have liked, and Emma was no different.

“Oh, you two are so much alike,” Kathryn murmured.

Emma cleared the thickness in her throat and managed a weak, “Huh?”

“Nothing.” Kathryn shook her head, waving it off. She formed a tight-lipped smile. “Something tells me you and I are the only two people onboard who see Regina for who she really is. There is hope in that.”

“There are times I don’t have the slightest clue who she is.”

How true, Kathryn thought. She may not have known Emma at the time, but Regina missing her had changed the captain in ways that were hard to explain. The crew saw their captain’s dejected attitude but shrunk from voicing their observations directly. Regina may have come to terms with her feelings for Emma before she even resigned, but she never got the chance to understand how profoundly she had fallen in love with her first officer. Even if she had, Kathryn guessed she wouldn’t have done anything about it.

“It comes with the job of being friends with Regina. Don’t shake your head. She is your friend, Emma. We have a duty to trust our friends just as equally as we doubt them. As I said before, if you wanted easy you should never have enlisted in Cosmofleet. You made your choice to be here –“

“And now I have to live with it.”

“Again, it is your choice. No one is forcing you to be here. No one is pushing you to make nice with Regina. Our life is what we make of it. Regardless of precedents or prophecies, you must do what you feel is right.”

Emma’s chin dropped to her chest. She swallowed. “I don’t know if being here – onboard this ship I mean – is right. I don’t want to endanger any more lives with my indecision.”

“You don’t strike me as one who gives up easily.” Kathryn ducked her head to catch Emma’s gaze. “Don’t make me lose faith in my powers of perception, Emma.”

Emma chuckled and raised a brow. “Is that an order?”

“It’s a request,” Kathryn replied, with an incline of her head.

“Well, it’s just like a doctor –“

Emma’s statement cut off at the violent jostle the ship gave. The floor beneath them shook with a force that offset their balance. Both of them lunged for something to grab on to. Their glasses once settled relaxed on the coffee table tipped over and soaked the carpet. The decanter cart rattled in place, rolling slowly backwards, picking up speed to the ships jukes, and slamming into the aquarium. The tank gave a jostle, its black light flickering precariously, but held fast. Tropical sea fish continued to swim oblivious to the vessel’s pitching.

The rocking settled and gave way to an ear-splitting sound of metal scraping metal. When the noise faded out it was replaced by a blaring siren.

Kathryn’s eyes broadened in the red light of the alarms. “What in the name of…?”

Emma still had a white-knuckled grip on Kathryn’s desk. She was suspended in disbelief, panting in terror. “Torpedoes maybe. The hits we just felt could have torn through the hull!”

“Gods… And we’re lightyears from the nearest star base!”

“It wouldn’t matter. We gave up that luxury the minute we hijacked _Storybrooke_ right out of Earth Space Dock.”

“Technically, it’s our ship, Emma. We live and work here. Our –“

“Now’s really not the time, Kathryn,” Emma interjected, starting for the door.

Just as the hatch hissed open, a crackling came from Kathryn’s intercom. It was Regina.

_“Kathryn! The Storybrooke is under attack. I need to know where Emma is!”_

Emma met Kathryn’s wide-eyed expression in earnest. Everything about her implored the doctor to advise her in this moment. She had been a great listener and a rock of support up until now.

Blinking, Kathryn found herself in an uncomfortable position.

 _“Kathryn!”_ the distraught voice shouted. _“Is she with you?!”_

Fraught with hesitation, Emma uttered, “I’m here, Regina.” Her brows rose expectantly to a reply.

A muffled noise trailed through the speaker. “ _And you are both safe?_ ”

“Yeah,” the two blondes rang out simultaneously.

With the _Storybrooke_ under attack, the thought of Henry’s safety invaded Emma’s mind. He’s probably terrified without her. Her heart thudded in her chest. She couldn’t imagine not being with him now despite the danger this new enemy presented to the ship. This was exactly why the fleet prohibited children onboard; they distracted crewmembers and, most importantly, their parents. When one’s child stood in the thick of battle, their crew’s safety fell second in priority.

Needless to say, Henry would always be Emma’s number one priority on or off the ship. If that made her a poor officer than so be it.

“Where is Henry?” she asked, strained with worry.

Regina may not have been present to behold the dread in Emma’s eyes, but the panicked voice clued her in enough.

_“He’s with me on the main bridge. I’ve posted security guards here on standby. He’s safe.”_

“Thank you,” Emma sighed in relief. She might never be so thankful to Regina in this lifetime or the next. “That was quite the disturbance. Do you have a damage report?”

 _“Blast damage in decks eight and nine, minor buckling to the containment field, no casualties.”_ Regina fell silent before adding, _“Yet.”_

Kathryn tipped her ear to the intercom and asked, “Regina, have we identified our attacker? Could it be Cosmofleet?”

Emma looked to her and said, “It’s not likely. We’re outside of Commonwealth space, after all.”

_“Miss Swan is correct. Ruby ran the craft’s designation through our databases and came up with a name. The hostiles are aligned with the Forsythe Cartel.”_

Kathryn squinted. “The crime syndicate?”

“The most powerful criminal syndicate to known space,” Emma explained begrudgingly. “They deal in drug trafficking. Regina, we need to warn Medbay immediately and fortify the deck. The hostiles will want any supplies they can get their greedy hands on.”

 _“I have already sent security. Doctor Blanchard has been apprised of the dangers. In the mean time, someone needs to lead a team to the port side airlock. The cartel is maneuvering to dock and board from there.”_  The speaker crackled a bit over the pause. _“Emma, I need you to take a handful of officers, proceed to deck ten, and intercept the hostiles.”_

Emma felt torn. It wouldn’t be long before their ship was invaded. They had to be stopped before their troops funneled in, deck-by-deck, blasting anyone who got in their way. But her friend, sweet, harmless Mary Margaret, was posted in Medbay. The Cartel wouldn’t waste time ransacking the other areas. Their main target was medical supplies and that’s where the doctor waited.

Hands on her hips, Emma tapped an anxious rhythm with her finger. “I… I’d like to secure Medbay first.”

 _“Emma,”_ the voice pressed.

As if expecting it, Emma shut her eyes and threw her head back, nodding to unseen authority. “Okay, okay. I’ll get some people and head to the airlock.”

_“Comm the bridge when you and your team arrive at the intercept point. No mistakes this time.”_

Emma glanced to Kathryn. “Affirmative.”

The intercom clicked off.

“Gods…” Emma sighed, drawing a hand over her face. “This day can’t get any worse.”

“You’re a lieutenant commander, Emma. Now’s the time to act like it.”

“I _know_ ,” Emma growled, chopping her hand down to display her frustration. “I’m just sick of people telling me –“ Her lips formed a thin line as she winced. “Sorry.”

“There are a lot of people who depend on you, but there are just as many who believe in you. They will help. All you have to do is ask.”

Emma bit her lip worryingly. Her eyes turned pleading and she asked, “Will you go and watch Henry for me? Assure him I’ll be fine? He worries too much about me.”

“You have a good boy there,” Kathryn noted with a smile. “And yes, of course I will watch over him.”

A comforting grin made its home on Emma’s face. Spirits renewed by a sense of newfound friendship, she sprinted to cut off the enemy.

* * *

Deck ten was one level above Medbay and directly under the two damaged floors. Torpedoes had crippled decks eight and nine, which explained the searing heat and smoke from the ceiling bulkheads. In order to escape the plumes of smoke, Emma and her team of ten kept low.

They were all dressed in their dark field uniforms and were equipped with vibroknives, grenades, pistols strapped to their thighs, and blaster proof vests. The lightest materials were the best materials in tactical situations such as this because they needed to move fast at a moment’s notice. Emma had a feeling this encounter would require a lot of dodging and diving.

Crouched at a bend in the corridor, she raised her fist. Her team stopped and hugged the wall on her signal. Blaster rifle shouldered, she touched a gloved finger to the comlink on her neck strap and said, “Bridge, this is Swan One. We’re in position.”

Regina’s voice came through Emma’s earpiece, calm and cool. _“Can you verify hostile numbers?”_

Emma tilted her head for a peek but an assembly of footfalls sounded and she retreated behind the corner. “Negative. They’re here all right, but from the racket I’m hearing they’re getting locked and loaded for a raid.”

_“They are not to get past our defenses. You keep the fire to that deck and that deck only. Is that clear?”_

“Copy.”

_“You know this ship better than they do. Use that to your advantage.”_

Emma’s eyes slipped closed as she listed to her captain’s counsel. She inhaled through her nose and nodded on exhale. “Got it.”

A faint scrape Emma took for grinding teeth echoed in her ear. She touched her fingers to her earpiece for a better listen.

Then there was Regina’s firm mandate, _“Remind me why I reinstated you.”_

Her earpiece gave a click at the end of the transmission.

This wasn’t the time for pleasantries or witty remarks. It hit Emma like a solar wind. This was her home and it was being invaded. A group of very dangerous, heavily armed mercenaries were just around the corner. Her stomach twisted in knots. Their very presence threatened Henry, her only son, and Regina, a woman she would not allow to fall into enemy hands a second time.

Shaking off pre-combat jitters, Emma gave her team the signal to ready their gear. She checked her rifle’s charge before getting a true grip on it. Taking a deep breath, she braced the butt of her weapon to her shoulder and led the way.

On cue, two of her men lobbed flash grenades. They went rolling down the corridor and gave a harsh _bang!_ A blinding flash gave way to a hailstorm of blaster fire. There were bolts flying from both sides, each taking and unleashing fire.

Emma shot off a few rounds into the smoke before sliding to cover. The barrage coming their way left them no time to spread out, so her entire team had been backed into one place. They couldn’t all fire from one spot, so she devised a strategy.

Back pressed to the wall, Emma instructed three troops to move to the other side of the corridor on her mark. With a nod, she and the others turned and laid suppressive fire on the hostiles. The three crewmembers sprinted across the wide corridor and behind a corner. With the exception of a few singed sleeves, they got there safely.

What now? Emma thought. Though she had fought in battles before, never had she been forced to fight on her own ship. She couldn’t think of a more damaging hit to morale.

Emma remembered her brief conversation with Regina and took her suggestion by utilizing home field to her advantage. Ignoring the acrid smoke and blaster fire, Emma concentrated on the schematics of the deck. She imagined the hallways, rooms, accesses, and corners, filtering them for a tactic.

“Blast!” cried a soldier to her left who was taking heavy fire from cover. “There’s too many!”

Emma withdrew from focus and supported her team with a viscous onslaught of fire. The corridors were permeated by smoke, making it difficult to make out the enemy. If the cartel broke through their defenses she wouldn’t be able to tell them apart from her own party.

In any case, more hostiles were on the way. Their numbers were refreshed with new reinforcements. It seemed as if every downed man sprouted three live ones.

“That’s _some_ back up they got there!”

Sarcasm may be a trademark of Emma Swan’s key to survival, but she wouldn’t allow it here. Not in the stench of burning flesh.

She grasped the trooper’s shoulder and told him, “We don’t let them through. I don’t care how many reinforcements they have.” She clapped him on his armored shoulder. “This is _our_ ship.”

He gave a nod and shouted to the rest of them, “Let’s send ‘em back where they came from boys!”

“And girls!” chimed one of their female team members. She, too, followed his lead in tossing a stun grenade into the gathering army.

The blast tore a hole in their offensive line. A booming _pop!_ and a bright light floored a handful of hostiles. The rest diverted their eyes and held their ears in pain.

Emma and her team made their move. Using the hallways as cover, they retreated steadily enough for the enemy to trail. When Emma arrived at the dead end she and the others split up down the hallways on either side.

They swiftly flattened themselves against the walls. The overhead lights were out, allowing them to remain unseen. They watched from the shadows as the cartel’s soldiers took the bait.

When the last hostile passed, Emma side stepped from cover and fired. They had nowhere to run. She and her troopers cut them down in seconds. Clutching at their rifles hesitantly, everyone looked around with tugging grins, unsure whether to celebrate

There was an unexpected _blam!_ and then a groan. Emma whirled to see one of her own sag forward. It was the man who she had clapped on the shoulder. He fell into her arms with a vacant expression. Behind him awaited a corridor filled with hostiles, one whose rifle smoked from the barrel.

Fuck, Emma thought. She would have screamed it if her throat was not raw. She could hardly see through her scratchy, watery eyes. The smoke fumes had wreaked havoc on her. So had tragedy.

When their weapons rose to take aim, Emma and her team tucked and rolled. They ran as fast as their feet would take them. There wasn’t time to come up with a new strategy. The cartel had broken their front line and was filing in through deck ten like water through a sieve. Home field advantage had just been blown to space parts.

Emma’s heart pounded in her chest as she strained to push on. Her people were dropping all around her. Her rifle was lost in the rouse, so she had to rely on the spare pistol at her thigh. Eyes wild and mind racing for a plan, she raced through the corridors pausing every so often to lob a few shots at her pursuers.

When Emma came to a familiar section, her eyes darted from one door to the next. Heavy boots clomped nearer. Taking her chances, she dove for the nearest room and sealed the hatch.

Emma backed herself against the wall, eyes shut and lips clamped shut. Her nostrils flared to her heavy breathing. She hated this. There was nothing noble about hiding. Her people were out there somewhere, injured, fleeing for their lives. Most were likely dead and that’s what caused her guilt to double.

She tilted her ear to the door, listening to the slightest noise. When all was silent she took it as the all clear. The door hissed open. She raised her pistol, mouth set in grim line.

Smoke swirled around her as she pivoted out. The barrel of her blaster aimed down a vacant hallway. She turned and met the butt of a rifle in the face.

Emma’s vision clouded. She crumpled in a heap to the floor, blaster clattering out of reach. A wave of hostiles charged past, over her low threat form, in the direction of the turbolift. Just before losing consciousness she managed a weak, “Ah… blast.”


	13. Chapter 13

Emma woke to an annoying squawking in her ear. Wincing, she pressed the heel of her hand to the pain. Her split brow was slicked over in blood. She used her sleeve to gingerly dab at the area.

_“Emma! Emma, what’s happened?”_

Groaning, she fingered the comlink on her neck strap. “What?!” she barked.

_“Oh, gods. Why have you not answered by hails?”_

“Kind of been busy, Regina.”

A weighty exhale came over the line. _“What is the situation?”_

The floor spun beneath her. She bit down on the rush of nausea and reached out to the wall for stability. “I… I was ambushed.”

Emma looked around her, noticing that the haze of battle had settled. There was no sign of hostiles or friendlies. There was no telling how long she had been unconscious, therefore she couldn’t know if the Forsythe Cartel had found what they were after.

She hung her head in defeat. “Regina, the cartel’s forces have boarded. They’re advancing to Medbay.”

 _“Emma,”_ the address carried a slight tremble, _“they’ve already reached Medbay.”_

Emma’s face crumpled. She struggled to control her emotions. “Oh, okay.”

_“I’ve sealed the blast doors outside the lab where most supplies are held. The hostiles have been cutting through for the past ten minutes while defending against our security teams. It hasn’t been a fair fight.”_

“Hey, I’m not a structural engineer, but ten minutes with a plasma torch does not give that blast door a whole lot to be happy about. It’s only a matter of time before they break through.”

_“I am aware of that, Miss Swan.”_

Emma rolled her eyes, which subsequently aggravated her wound. She grunted, pressed to it to stem any unnecessary bleeding. It must have been a deep laceration because her sleeves were soaked in red. “Shit,” she muttered and sagged against the wall in fear not for her own life but for the lives aboard.

_“Are you okay?”_

Emma had a feeling Regina wasn’t inquiring after her physical condition. “Y-yeah,” she stumbled out, giving her shoulders a few preparative rolls. “I’m good.”

 _“Then let’s finish this.”_ A few buttons engaged on the other line. _“I have a lift heading to your level. I’ve shut down all the exits and entries to K Deck except for those our security are using to lend aid.”_

Emma heard a shrill _ding_ and started for the turbolift. When she got there the doors were opened in invitation.

Just when she thought she’d make it, the compartment ground to a sudden halt. Emma braced herself and listened with anxious ears.

“Ah… Regina?”

_“That section of the ship has taken a lot of damage. I can’t operate it from here. You’ll have to hot-wire it.”_

“Got it.”

Emma kneeled down and pulled open a panel revealing a maze of wirework. Her hands were surprisingly steady given the circumstance. They weaved through colored wires with nimble speed and at the instruction of a fix-it mind.

“So…” she drawled, trying to make casual conversation as she worked. “How has Henry been holding up through this?”

Henry was neutral subject between her and Regina, but there was no guarantee this time. After their kiss the other day she didn’t know what to expect from an unexpected woman like Regina. One thing was for sure, she wouldn’t claim to know her when she clearly knew nothing about her or her feelings.

"Regina?"

Silence. She continued to work on getting the lift functioning again, but her mind raced with obscure reservations.

“Regina?” she called again. Worry surged within her as she checked her comlink. “Is it Medbay? Have they cut through?”

The line crackled and wheezed until it filtered Regina’s voice through. _“We now have more pressing concerns. Another cartel ship has dropped out of hyperspace.”_

“To back up their friends, I’d reckon.”

_“I was about to assemble a squadron of our starfighters to defend the Storybrooke but the containment field has sustained damage in the first attack. No vehicles can pass out of the hanger without it.”_

Emma chewed at her bottom lip. “What’s the integrity of our port-side hull?”

_“Holding, but it cannot take much more.”_

Emma’s hands paused in their fiddling. She could sense the conflict in Regina’s voice. Her captain would rather be fighting alongside her crew than watching from the safety of the bridge. Emma sympathized. She understood how hard it was to sit back and make decisions that cost lives.

But Regina had to lead. It was crucial for the captain to direct from the bridge. If they were going to get through this, their best hope lied with her.

The rubber encasing one of the wires in Emma’s hand wore under her preoccupied scrubbing. “Hey, ah, you know, Reg –“

The sound of an explosion rocked the _Storybrooke_. Emma didn’t feel much of a vibration and frowned. “That didn’t hit us, right?”

 _“Oh my gods,”_ came the gasp.

“Regina?!” Emma cried. Her frantic heart ached to be on the bridge right then. “What is it?!”

 _“Emma…”_ Regina’s smile could be heard in her voice. “There’s another ship! The cartel’s back-up has just taken a severe blow to their main engines. I think it’s the Raiders. They’ve come to our aid.”

Emma could only roll her eyes and mutter, “It’s about time.”

With a few twists to the wires she got a few sparks to fly. A soft whir started and rose to a cycling pulse. The lights reactivated with a flicker, bringing out a smug smile in Emma. “Take that Michael Tillman.”

_“Excuse me?”_

“My old boss back in the day. He said I wouldn’t amount to anything in this galaxy.”

_“Yes, good for you, dear. I need to check on Leroy’s repairs to the containment field. Can you rendezvous with security now or do you need me to stroke your ego?”_

This time Emma didn’t hurt herself rolling her eyes. She was that good. “No, ma’am.”

She smirked at the predictable huff. Regina didn’t like to be called “ma’am” in any capacity, language, or alternate universe.

When Emma got to K Deck she made a beeline to the highest ranked officer. A man of medium height and stocky build saluted. His rumpled uniform suggested that the alarm caught him off-duty and unprepared for a small-scale war.

He introduced himself with gruff, “Corporal Hackett.”

“Corporal, what’s the status on the blast doors?”

“There cutting fast. I estimate they will break through within the next half hour.”

“Even if they gain access to the lab and collect what they want, there’s no place to run. We’ve locked down all exits.”

His eyes shifted towards the sound of chaos. “I wouldn’t be so optimistic. They certainly know what they’re doing.”

“What makes you say that?”

“They’ve set up small containment shields for cover. None of our fire is getting past it. They’ve got this down to a science, Commander.”

“I doubt we’re the first ship they’ve conducted a raid on.”

“The captain’s been hailing me every five minutes demanding an update,” he complained with a shake of his head. “I can’t command support teams, direct medical technicians in retreat, _and_ have a chat with the commander!” He puffed out his cheeks in frustration.

Emma understood his unspoken plea but not at the expense of breaking chain of command. “Captain Mills needs to know how the situation is proceeding. She would rather be down here, fighting with us, but she can’t. Just give her the updates, Corporal.”

“Aye-aye.” He saluted and moved on.

A pair of fresh soldiers stood at ease, waiting for orders.

“It doesn’t sound good, Commander,” one of them remarked.

“It hasn’t been a day for warm welcomes,” she grumbled. “Come on.”

Emma followed the sound of blaster fire till she arrived at the front line. The field of battle proved a much larger scale then the one she just left. The corridor leading to Medbay was much wider and filled with debris and bodies.

Durasteel storage containers had been improvised into rows of barricades for security to fire from. Emma crouched behind one of them and peeked up to see several dozen hostiles camped behind a glowing blue field. Beyond that their welding tool spit out a controlled burst of magma-like heat. The door was melting like wax. Prepared was an understatement.

A white lab coat popped out of the corner of her eye. She launched from cover and met the doctor behind a corner.

“Mary Margaret.” Emma gaped, hardly believing her eyes. “Why are you holding a blaster?!”

It was hard to believe there was a kind-hearted, pacifist doctor under all the grime. Sweat beaded at her brow but she ignored it to produce a spray of blaster bolts at the containment field before spinning back.

“I’m protecting my investment,” responded Mary Margaret.

“ _Lab_ supplies?”

“That and every breathing soul I call a friend and colleague.” She turned on the stark Emma and met her with determination. “We are being _invaded_ , Emma.”

“You’ve never shot anyone in your entire life!” choked Emma.

“Well, it’s about time I did.”

Emma deadpanned. “Fine. As long as it’s not me.” She positioned herself in front of Mary Margaret and followed her aim. “At least fire from behind me. You’re not even wearing a vest.”

Huffing to the order, Mary Margaret did as instructed.

“Stay close.”

“I am.”

“Don’t fire until you have a clear target in your sights.”

“I won’t.”

“And whatever you do, don’t shoot me.”

“Obviously.”

Emma threw a withering look over her shoulder.

A sharp pop indicated to the welding tool’s expired flame. The hostiles had succeeded in gaining access to the lab and were filing in. Emma looked to the security guards taking heavy fire behind their barricades.

She waved to the nearest troops and asked, “Does anyone have grenades?”

“We’re fresh out.”

“Vaporize me,” she mumbled and pulled two flashbangs from her waist pouch. She entrusted one to the trooper and said, “On three.”

On three, they tossed the grenades and spun for cover. After the flash she bellowed, “Advance!”

Every guard with a blaster broke from shelter and dashed forward. Emma aimed her shots carefully so as not to take out one of her own. A few troopers dropped under fire, some faltering through a bolt to the shoulder or the knee. Emma felt the heat from blaster fire sear past her cheeks, singing her once glossy blonde hair.

Amid smoke and fire, she grit her teeth and threw herself at one of the hostiles. They crashed into the wall with simultaneous grunts but kept on their feet. Emma blocked the first punch, and took the second in the chin. The force of the strike had her bowed over, giving the hostile ample opportunity to grab her by the hair and bash her head into the wall.

Blinking against the void, Emma felt the blood come down her face in warm, sticky rivulets. Her tongue was coated with sickly copper, so she spat out the worst of it. She was really getting sick of taking headshots.

Before he could determine her readiness for combat, he earned a kick to the groin. Growling, Emma pummeled his gut with her fist. She finished him off with her vibroknife. He sank to his knees, covering the hole in his side, and tumbled over like dead weight.

Exhausted from just the one fight, Emma tipped her head back to catch her breath. She didn’t notice the blaster trained on her from afar. Nobody saw it coming but one.

Mary Margaret’s mouth opened in a muted scream. She dove for Emma, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her down. They crashed to the floor just as a stray bolt took out the hostile.

“What the hell?” Emma gasped, coughing in shock. She could hardly breathe under the weight. “Argh, Mary Margaret, get off!”

She rolled off Emma and stared up at the ceiling. Her vacant eyes never wavered.

Emma scrambled over her on her hands and knees. She reached out, hovering over the inert body. “M-Mary Margaret?” She sucked in a breath, laboring to do so without a coughing fit. Her vision blurred as the blood and tears mixed. She took her friend by the arms and shook. “Mary Margaret!” she screamed, saliva splattering the pale cheeks below.

Emma’s hands shook as she wedged them under the body. When her fingers reached a blistering hole she whimpered a meek, “Oh…”

During her failed efforts to revive her friend, Emma hadn’t noticed their victory. All around them lay the dead bodies of the Farsythe Cartel. Their precious booty of lab supplies was left mostly untouched. The triumphant security guards and medical technicians exchanged smiles and back slaps of compliments. That is, until the intermittent wails cut through the celebration.

* * *

Having been informed of their victory, Regina had taken the lift down to K Deck. David, Belle, Ruby, and Leroy followed, all hoping to witness the result with their own eyes.

Regina stopped dead in her tracks. The rest of her senior officers rushed past. As the first to act, David kneeled down next to the scene and mind-numbingly laid a hand on Emma’s shoulder.

In her grief, Emma registered the gesture and batted it down angrily. Denial swirled in her belly. She couldn’t take this. She could take a lot of loss in her lifetime – in some ways she already had – but not this. Mary Margaret, her only true friend who got her through dark times, who turned her chin up and spoke words of encouragement, who fiddled with shuttle instruments in good faith and only ended up setting off a cabin-full of alarms.

This was not just tragedy, this was blasted unreasonable.

She choked over another sob. Tears streamed down her face and soaked the white lab coat.

“Emma,” David urged gently.

“Don’t!” she screeched and threw him off again. She whirled back to the body and pulled it into her arms. “No, no, no!” she sobbed. “Don’t fucking do this to me! NO!”

Leroy was looking down into his greasy, grimy hands. His bottom lip protruded around a stifled curse of “ _Hells_.”

Ruby and Belle covered their mouths in anguish. They too were blinking back tears. Belle sucked in a shaky breath and leaned into Ruby. Not believing it herself, Ruby encircled an arm around her friend.

Behind them, Regina stood motionless. She was not as astonished upon seeing Mary Margaret’s lifeless form as she was to behold the blood spattered Emma crumble into nonsensical despair.

She slowly lost her grip on what it meant to be captain – the voice of wisdom and foremost authority on suitable conduct. Her lips were parted but nothing came. Her eyes were wide and unguarded much to her ignorance. She appeared torn between isolating herself from the sorrowful atmosphere and following through on her intention to console. First hand experience with mourning held her back.

A loud, coughing wheeze snapped Regina’s head up. She expected to see Emma in more sobbing fits, but what she found shocked her to her core.

“Mary Margaret!”

Emma fell back in astonishment as the body reanimated. Mary Margaret came alive before her eyes and she could only wait for the other shoe to drop. She stared, jaw dropping like a monger fish.

“Oh, my. That was a doozy.” Mary Margaret sat up and twisted so she could get a feel for the blaster wound.

Emma sat, blinking.

“Uh.” David shifted awkwardly, a smile tugging uncertainly at his lips. “You okay, Mary Margaret?”

“Huh? Oh, yes. It’s just a graze.”

Whiplashing back to reality, Emma shook her head and shrieked, “Just a graze?! Are you off your blasted speeder? You took a direct hit!”

A flicker of apprehension passed over Mary Margaret’s face. She avoided Emma’s gaze as she assessed her escape options. She failed to come up with a single explanation as to how she went unscathed from a blaster bolt to the back. A less startling explanation, that was.

“Not to worry.” Using David’s arm for support, Mary Margaret stood and turned. “See? It just missed my primary circuits.”

The gaping hole revealed not flesh and bone but machinery. Amid singed wiring a milky fluid dribbled much like the life force of blood through humanoids. The unlikely sight triggered gasps all around.

“Stellar,” Ruby gasped in awe.

David opened and closed his mouth, unsure how to take the news.

Belle tilted her head, entranced by Mary Margaret’s… situation. “You’re a robot.”

Tsking, Mary Margaret matched Belle’s cocked head with her own. “I prefer artificial person.”

“You’re one of those EMO models, aren’t ya?” Leroy asked. Eying her from head to toe, he stroked his chin and nodded. “Yeah, I heard about them. They’re supposed to simulate actual humanoid emotions. Wow, I’ve heard of them but I never thought I’d meet one. It’s a walking talking EMO. Right here!”

“That’s enough, Leroy.” David got between him and Mary Margaret. He stared the engineer down with severe reprisal. “Whatever is on the inside, she’s still one of us. She’s still Mary Margaret.”

There was more bickering between David and Leroy and with Belle and Ruby adding their two cents. Mary Margaret hung back in an attempt to make herself invisible. Emma lent only half an ear to the dispute. She was still trying to make sense of it all.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Regina slid in beside Emma and caused her to jump. Their shoulders brushed and Emma wondered behind the intent. Their eyes met briefly, straining to read one another. Before either of them could speak of it, the deck’s intercom crackled.

 _“Captain,”_ Rumple’s voice filtered through, _“both cartel ships are disabled. The Raider ship has made contact and wishes to board and confer with you and the Lieutenant Commander.”_

“To whom will we be speaking to?” Regina asked.

_“The human calls himself Anderson. No first name.”_

At the mention of Anderson, the relief that had so swiftly soared upon her friend’s revival plummeted. Emma chewed the inside of her cheek.

It had been a whirlwind of a day and she’d need several naps and a shower before she could begin to sift through all the incidents. In the aftermath of a failed hostile takeover the ship had sustained damage, Mary Margaret had been killed and then… an android? It was too much.

Regina looked to the hardened face of Emma. It pained her to see her so ill. She had been through so much. It wasn’t just the physical wounds, despite the deep gash in her forehead. She looked positively drained of life. Emma had just witnessed her best friend take a hit for her. She mourned her for a time. And if that wasn’t enough she got hit with the news that Mary Margaret was an android.

Regina didn’t know the details, but if Emma had no hint of it before than she must have been doubly overwhelmed. Her best friend had lied to her from the moment they’d met. _Lying_ was probably a harsh word, but Regina wouldn’t accept any other.

 _“Captain?”_ Rumple drawled boringly. He’d rather be playing cards than sitting there alone on the bridge. _“What shall I tell him?”_

Regina tipped her head to catch some flicker of a response. It proved a challenge. Emma had tucked her chin to her chest, preventing any hope of a thorough study. “Emma…” she pressed gently.

Emma shut her eyes. This was not what she needed now – more prophecy drivel and appeals to save humanity galore. She had more important things to deal with than Anderson and his Raiders. “No,” she ground out. “Not right now. Rumple, tell Anderson he and his conference can wait.”

Regina nodded in agreement and added, “Miss Swan and I will convene a formal meeting with Anderson once we reach the safe ground. The _Storybrooke_ will rendezvous with him at the Raider base. Acknowledge.”

_“Copy, Commander.”_

Everyone looked to each other. They all wore varying expressions of fatigue with Emma wearing the worst of it in her own blood.

“Hm,” Leroy scratched his chin, eyes shifting in Mary Margaret’s direction but not daring look her in the eye. “So I guess we all gotta get used to working with a robot.”

Ruby placed her hands on her hips and told him, “She prefers ‘artificial person,’ Leroy. Don’t be so insensitive.”

“Can you give a guy some time to adjust? Geez! I just found out the doc’s a –“

“We all know what she is,” Belle finished. “It’s been established.”

“She’s not a ‘what,’” David clarified firmly. “She’s a _who_ and she’s the same _person_ we’ve known these past few years.”

“But –“

“Leroy,” Emma warned.

The corridor grew quiet and thick with awkwardness no one could describe much less break.

Regina spoke up for what seemed like eons. “In any case,” she shifted her gaze to the shrinking Mary Margaret, “you are a unique individual and I thank you for your sacrifice.”

The words were practiced but the feeling behind them rang true. Emma figured that appreciation was a difficult thing for Regina, especially when it concerned the doctor. At one time, they had been sisters, thereby instigating Mary Margaret’s detainment. Regina had been none too pleased to find out one of her own crew (and supposed stepsister) had a connection to terrorist leader, Leopold White. Now Regina was putting all that unsavory history behind her and accepting Mary Margaret as best as she knew how.

Crinkles formed around Emma’s eyes as she beamed at Regina. She had never been so proud of her captain.

Regina didn’t return the smile. Instead, she acted on integrity.

Mary Margaret stared at the hand being offered before snapping back to the present and shaking it.

“Doctor.” Regina gave a stiff yet well-meaning grin before taking swift leave.

Nodding, Mary Margaret watched Regina stalk off to more pressing matters. “Captain.”

* * *

A little while later, Emma stood at the door to Chief Medical Officer’s Quarters. She would have come sooner if it weren’t for her pervading stink of death. She had showered off, scrubbing violently to the blood and the grunge stuck to her skin, but even after it still clung to her in memory. Her stained uniform was swapped out for jeans and a long sleeve. The half knotted laces of her boots dragged across the floor as she had no time to dote on such insignificant details. She even forwent sleep.

When Mary Margaret answered the knock, she looked better than expected. Actually, Emma didn’t really know what to expect. She couldn’t admit to knowing the recuperation time of an android who had taken a blaster shot to the back.

“Hi, Emma.”

Emma smiled to the soft spoken greeting before dropping her gaze. Despite having several hours to prepare a speech, her mind fumbled for the words.

“Would you like to come in?” Mary Margaret asked, her eyes wide with hope.

“Yeah, sure.”

Emma ducked her head to hide the shame and proceeded quickly to the armchair. Mary Margaret remained standing. Instead of putting her friend out of her misery she settled for a sweep of her room. Her eyes jumped from one piece of furniture to the next, not lingering on any one thing until they inevitably ended on Emma.

“You earned a pretty bad cut there,” she observed, gesturing to the small bandage on Emma’s forehead. “I see you didn’t wait to get it cleaned this time.”

Emma smirked at the subtle rebuke. Mary Margaret may not be who she thought she was, but she was still that bothersome doctor Emma came to know and love. There was still some of that bother some doctor under all that wiring. More importantly, she still remained the friend Emma came to know and love.

“Yeah, one of your med techs applied some hydrogel sealant. Then just slapped a band-aid on it.”

Mary Margaret suppressed a laugh at the wily grin. “You’d slap a band-aid on an amputation if you could.”

Laughing, Emma probed her bandage with delicate finesse. Delicate, in her case, meant course scratching.

“Oh, don’t do that. You’ll tear your wound open.”

“It itches.”

Before Emma knew it there were hands on her forehead. She felt the cool, practiced fingers smooth the adhesive back into place. She panned up to her savior and mumbled a timid, “Thanks.”

“Mm-hm. Notwithstanding that head laceration you do look well. ”

Mary Margaret, somewhat less antsy than before Emma arrived, settled into the chair opposite. Sitting up straight, she folded her hands in her lap and waited. She had no intention of being the first to bring it up.

Emma sighed. Mary Margaret was not going to make this easy on her. “You look well yourself, for sustaining blaster fire.”

“Oh, it’s not too complicated. I am a very self-sufficient android, especially when it comes to damaged circuits.”

“I don’t doubt that. I just wish you had told me before. Here I thought I was the only one in this friendship that could rewire stuff.”

A hearty laugh broke from Mary Margaret.

The sound succeeded in calming Emma’s nerves. She smiled and joined in to the easy laughter. Emma wasn’t the judgmental type, but she was still surprised that her closest friend wouldn’t confess her automaton status to her. Mary Margaret had to know she would defend her till her dying breath.

“Why _didn’t_ you tell me, Mary Margaret?” she pressed lightly.

“I trust you, Emma, with my life. But we have two different perspectives on life, don’t we? I’ve dealt with a lot of backlash because of who I am. Before I met you”

“You think I care about that? I mean, was I surprised? Seven hells, yeah. Am I disappointed that you didn’t trust me with this? Yes. But there is nothing that could make you repulsive in my eyes. Our friendship means everything to me and nothing is going to change how much I care about you, not Leroy, not anyone.”

“I’m very sorry I didn’t tell you. If I knew then what I know now I would not have kept this to myself. But you cannot understand what it’s like. I’ve dealt with a lot of criticism because of who I am. Before I met you I worked many jobs to afford academy tuition. Whenever an employer found out I was… different... they fired me. The longest position I ever held was at Anodym as a low-level medical technician.”

“Anodym Industries? They’re a synthetic manufacturer.”

“The very same who constructed me. When my father bought me –“

“Wait, Leopold _bought_ you?”

“Yes,” Mary Margaret replied. The light from her eyes faded as she turned them away. “His wife couldn’t conceive, and when she passed away he was inconsolable. I suppose he chose me as an alternative to grief.”

Emma squinted, trying to wrap her head around that. As someone from the foster system, she remembered waiting in a tiny orphanage for weeks, sometimes months, before anyone so much as expressed interest in her. She had been in a dozen homes and all of them chose her for different reasons. Not one included ‘alternative to grief.’

“But that’s terrible,” she alleged, astounded.

“It has been the center of many arguments. My father and I had a rocky relationship, but in the beginning he was a very loving guardian to me.” Mary Margaret shrugged and looked back up with renewed vigor. “I did not intend to be a retired admiral’s daughter forever. I wanted to do something with my life. It seemed natural that I do something for the people who gave me this life. With my father’s permission I became an intern for one of the doctors at Anodym. I spent many years there in training. I learned much about the synthetic circulatory system, but what fascinated me most was their ability to feel emotions.”

“But you’re an EMO model. Feeling things should come natural to you.”

“Nevertheless, the outside world saw me and my kind as _unnatural_ , so I strived to understand. Although I had the capacity to feel as humans do, I wanted to feel more and not as an android.”

Emma sensed where the story was leading. “But you couldn’t do that working for Anodym.”

“That’s the reason why I applied to the academy as a human. I couldn’t let this,” she patted her chest with her fists, “prevent me from my dream. I wanted so much to be a doctor. It’s all I’ve ever worked for.”

Something about the story bothered Emma. Her stomach twisted at the question she couldn’t hold in any longer. “You always said you and your dad had a falling out. That he forced you to run away. Is that true?”

Turmoil wracked at Mary Margaret in knit brows and a twisting mouth. If she held back, Emma would not be as forgiving. She knew her friend well. Emma didn’t stand for manipulation. She didn’t like people making choices for her betterment.

“As you know,” she began slowly, feeling the weight of the words to come, “I am a superior model of synthetic who can synthesize emotion and superficially register self-awareness. I also have the ability to reason, conceptualize, and offer an opinion. What you don’t know is that Anodym had another purpose for us. We were created to explore human emotion in order to infiltrate humanoid society without being exposed. As you can imagine, any hint of this would have Anodym shut down by order of the government. Although they were a private corporation, there were limits. I do not know the details but based on what I know now I’d assume Anodym was working with outside contractors, people in need of expendable spies.”

“People like Leopold and his Raiders.”

“Hindsight is 20/20. I didn’t want any part of it and I told my father. He wouldn’t accept it. He would have forced me into the program if I had not run away. I was eighteen and I had no place to go.”

“So you left because you had an asshole dad who wanted to ship you off to spy camp,” Emma muttered, shaking her head.

“That and we had been growing apart. As I said before, he didn’t understand my desire to exceed my purpose. It’s just…”

Mary Margaret wore at her lip with her teeth. For years she had felt wracked with a burdensome legacy and there still seemed to be no end in sight. The oppression was skin deep, placed permanently inside her by her maker.

“My father loved me, Emma. And I loved him. I had no awareness of the man he would become. He was gentle towards me, until one day it was like a switch had been flipped. He started lashing out, blaming me for not acting like a proper daughter – not _his_ daughter, just a proper one. He started treating me less like a human companion and more like a synthetic.” Her head shook helplessly. Her eyes were glistening in unshed tears. “I didn’t know what brought on this change. All of a sudden he stopped loving me.”

“Mary Margaret…” Emma’s voice cracked. “I’m so sorry.”

She didn’t know what else to say. In her experience, no one had loved her and left her unless she counted her biological parents. But then she wasn’t raised by either of them like Mary Margaret had been. She didn’t get tucked in for bed or read a story. She never received gifts on Christmas morning, taught how to ride a speeder, or went shopping for school clothes. It didn’t matter that Mary Margaret wasn’t human; she experienced every one of those things with her father.

Emma ducked her head at a loss for how to comfort Mary Margaret.

“I felt heartbroken for the first time in my life. It _hurt_ ,” she emphasized by placing a closed fist over her heart. “The newness of it confused me and yet it spurred my determination. I pushed the boundaries I was made for and explored new ways of intelligence. Emotion is a complex process for the EMO models, but I found that it came easy to me.”

“It kind of makes sense, you know,” Emma alleged with a raised brow. “You’re as sensitive as any humanoid I’ve ever met. You’re compassionate, a steadfast friend, the perfect doctor,” Emma inclined her head with a smirk and pointed out, “when you’re not hovering.”

Mary Margaret allowed it with a chuckle. She may be a hovercar but she was a damn good doctor.

“Essentially, you’re the moral standard on _Storybrooke_. I’d say you’ve exceeded your goal.”

“Well, Cosmofleet hasn’t made it easy. When I was assigned to the _Storybrooke_ it became crucial for me to keep my secret.”

“Yeah,” Emma snorted, “and we know how accepting of non-humans the Commonwealth is.”

“Why do you think there is only one of me that came out as an android?” posed Mary Margaret. “Why do you think there is only one of Rumple? People of prejudiced natures are afraid to out themselves and when they do they are criticized. It’s a very dangerous place to find oneself these days. I just feel lucky that I’m aboard one of the few vessels in the fleet that is so open to non-human kind.”

Emma’s lips parted in a gasp. “That’s why you hold Regina in such high regard.”

“In some ways I’ve led a privileged autonomous life because of her. The captain has always had her reservations, but not one of them had been regarding my true identity. I don’t know if she was aware before, but I wouldn’t put it past her. She is a highly perceptive human.”

Emma drew a lopsided grin thinking of unprejudiced, inclusive Regina. “Annoyingly so,” she remarked with fondness.

“If it weren’t for her I don’t know where I’d be. Perhaps in a junk heap on Famos Minor.”

Emma shuddered at the thought. Famos Minor was a dumping ground for the galaxy’s limitless waste. The entire planet was covered in toxic sludge and obsolete machinery. Trash heaps were as tall as Mount Everest and pelted with acid rain almost daily.

“Don’t even joke about that.” She shot her friend a severe look to seal the warning. It wasn’t long before her face melted to amusement. She smiled and said, “Wait until Henry hears about this. You’ll be his new best friend.”

Mary Margaret blushed. “I’m sure.”

“I am curious, though. You always kept him at a distance. I hardly ever see the two of you together. Is it because of the… you know, the android thing?”

Rubbing her hands against her thighs in an anxious manner, Mary Margaret hedged for an answer. Her face paled as she tried to divert her gaze elsewhere. “I didn’t want to upset him. I have limited experience working with children. Most if not all my patients are full grown adults.”

Emma didn’t buy it. “You’re afraid he’ll reject you. I’m sorry to be blunt, but you’re an idiot for thinking so. You have nothing to be afraid of.” She paused at a faraway period of their past. Wincing inwardly, Emma asked, “Is it because I kept him from you all those years?”

“Oh, Emma, _no_ ,” she insisted with a dramatic shake of her head. “It didn’t trouble me that you kept Henry a secret. Your reasons were understandable under the circumstances. I understood where you were coming from. As an artificial person I know too well the burden of secrets. I could never condemn you for lying about a son when I myself was lying.”

“So you keeping your distance from Henry had nothing to do with me.”

“It’s my own self-doubts.” Mary Margaret’s features screwed with embarrassment. “I am plagued with confidence issues. But I am working on it,” she added quickly.

“You don’t have to change for us. And it will be good for you and Henry to get to know each other.”

“I’m not sure. Don’t you think it’s too soon?”

“I think we’ve all waited long enough, don’t you think?” When her proposal was accepted with a hesitant but engaging nod, Emma grinned. She felt a surge of tranquility at being able to put all the lies and mess behind them. “He’ll accept you just as you are. He’s a smart and compassionate kid.”

“I don’t know _where_ he get’s _that_ from.” Mary Margaret couldn’t help the quip.

A flush rose to Emma’s cheeks. “Hey.” Her chide dragged off in a chuckle. “Thanks by the way. In the confusion of you coming back to life I forgot to tell you how much I appreciate what you did for me. Not many would throw themselves in front of blaster fire for me.”

“I don’t think that’s entirely accurate. There are many people who care about you.”

Emma nodded faintly, thinking of only one person who she desperately wanted to return those feelings.

* * *

The Raider base was smaller than Xelphi Six but just as menacing. As the shuttle approached, Emma and Regina peered through their forward viewport at the spindly curved segments swathed around the main spherical section. Surprisingly, its ominous nature had nothing to do with the spider-like design.

If this was indeed Anderson’s key base of operations, it posed the question of numbers. Due to its limited size, it could be assumed that it boarded a less than startling crew population. How were they to fight a war against an entire government with those numbers? Were Anderson and his Raiders so formidable they didn’t require a full size space station as Leopold had? Or were they hiding their true strength from the _Storybrooke_? Perhaps on a secret base elsewhere?

If anything, the base posed more questions.

Emma guided their shuttle along the grey, pockmarked hull of the base in search for a place to dock. Scrawling, block letters passed by and she squinted to read, “ _Rogue Talon_.” She snorted. “That doesn’t sound pretentious.”

Regina uttered a non-committal hum and continued to stare out the viewport.

It had been a silent trip for the most part. Neither of them complained. After all they’d been through they were used to pretending everything was fine. Even if they had yet to clear the confusion and define the strain between them, it all got pushed to the background.

Once Emma docked she powered down the shuttle. They passed through the umbilical and out of the interior airlock hatch. An iron ramp with railings greeted them at the entrance.

During their walk to the main hub, Regina spied several glances. It wasn’t hard to miss, the fatigue enveloping Emma. She hardly looked like the same woman Regina had exchanged a quiet moment in a lift with. The changes displayed in a faltering gait, permanent creases in her forehead, and a sallow complexion. If Regina could look into her eyes she’d have been met with lackluster, a far cry from the starry-eyed recruit she had met all those years ago.

Regina’s pace never lingered in this subtle inspection. She feared what she might say next because it had been increasingly difficult to hold her tongue around Emma. Pun unintended, she thought with a roll of her eyes.

“Have you rested since your ordeal?” she finally asked as they made their way through one of the base’s arm section.

“Ordeal? Really? Is that what you’re calling it?”

Regina ignored the testy comment. Emma really _did_ look like she’d been through an ordeal but they didn’t have to fight about semantics.

“I’m fine,” Emma insisted.

Regina rubbed her thumb and forefinger together. “You don’t look fine.”

“And you’re not my mother.”

Regina bit back a response. No, she wasn’t her mother, but as captain she could order Emma to sit this one out and get some blasted sleep. Was it so unreasonable? Did she _have_ to draw up a mandate?

The silence forced Emma to reconsider her terse behavior. In effect, she began to consider a subject that had been pestering her recently.

Regina beat her to the punch. “Is this about Doctor Blanchard?”

Frowning, Emma started, “Had you… I mean, did you – “

“Did you know she was not human?” Regina asked in an accusatory tone, like Emma was a dolt for not seeing it before.

Emma had to think about that. The last thing she wanted to do was insult her best friend for something she had no control over. To accuse an android of not being human enough was a severe slight to their kind. It would be like someone telling Emma she didn’t deserve high-ranking because of her sexual orientation. Emma had no control over her preference; she just preferred a certain… shape. Mary Margaret was as human as the rest of them.

“What? No! No, no,” Emma sputtered. Some part of her feared the captain’s expectations. If Regina wanted to be informed of this development, had Emma known, this was the first she was hearing of it. “Did you?”

Regina stopped walking and fixed an expression of contemplation. “No, but then she is not my best friend.”

Emma scrunched her face at the sardonic tone. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You two have been friends for years and it never once crossed your mind that she was an android?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot to ask between studying for finals and eating her homemade meatloaf,” Emma threw up her hands. “How was I supposed to know, Regina? She seemed human enough to me. Am I just supposed to assume everyone is an android until proven humanoid?”

“Assumptions are for the weak minded.” And of course Regina wasn’t referring solely to Mary Margaret’s news. “There are signs, you know.”

“What, like billboard holos and premonitions? Because she’s never been in a position to slit her arm open and show me her circuits.”

Regina shook her head, rolling her eyes ironically. “You’re such an idiot,” she muttered, turning around and entering the hub.

“Damn it, Regina. I heard that!”

* * *

Anderson had a sturdy handshake; it said something about his character. Regina wagered Emma didn’t know anything about that. For someone who prattled on about her superior skills in reading others, she failed quite often with her own friends.

“Thank you again for intervening when you did,” Regina bowed her head stoically. “I don’t know how long we would have held out against the Cartel.”

Anderson nodded in respect. “It was our pleasure. Now please sit.”

He waved to the two empty seats at the circular steel conference table. In addition to Anderson, who presented in full uniform, several other highly ranked captains, all dressed in the black and gray colors known to Freedom Raiders accompanied him.

“You’re wondering about my uniform.” Anderson noticed Emma’s quizzical stare and fingered the short golden braid lining his chest pocket. “Yes, it is Cosmofleet. Years ago before I defected to the Raiders I decided to keep it – in part because it was a reminder.”

“Of their corruption?”

“Of their golden age. Once upon a time Cosmofleet had been a great institution that served all peoples far and wide. The fleet used to stand for freedom, equality, and honor. I don’t wish to lose that.”

“Doesn’t that clash with our purpose here today? I thought we were discussing your war with the Commonwealth.”

“I have never wanted the destruction of the fleet, or the Commonwealth for that matter. My intentions lie with reconstruction.”

“Not death and destruction,” ridiculed Emma. She glowered at the other men and women seated. Something about their dress, so similar to Leopold’s, triggered an itch. “Just what do you expect from them? A red carpet?”

“We have exhausted our resources in relaying our proposal. We’ve already proposed evidence of infiltration activities within the High Council and Admiral George’s threat to democracy. They will not listen to reason or words. They only react to violence.”

Regina leaned forward. “When you say ‘they’ you mean Admiral George.”

Anderson nodded grimly. “And he will reign as long as his manipulations endure. No one has been able to stop him from within. Our only option is war.”

“I understand where you are coming from,” Emma’s demeanor screwed into appall, “but are you blasted serious?! The hell you want to pick a fight with an entire regime for?”

Regina placed a hand on her arm, encouraging her to stay seated. “We do not easily trust those who use words like ‘war’ and ‘violence’ so lightly. You operate from the Outer Reaches, so you may not realize the extent of George’s influence on Earth. There are many innocent people who work within the government, people whose opinions diverge from George’s. The fleet is crewed by just as many willing to stand against his new empire. The thing about threats, if I may speak frankly, is that they have a tendency to strike fear in the hearts of the most resolute.

“We are well aware of the situation on Earth,” spoke one of the female captains. She leveled a severe look at Regina, daring her to challenge their intelligence.

Regina glared back but remained mostly unaffected. Emma was another matter. Quick to anger, she took the bait without thinking.

“You don’t know a hydrospanner from a sonic wrench! What do you expect us to do? Torpedo our own people? We have friends and family on Earth! And you just want to lob them in with George’s lot? I thought _he_ was a rash bastard.”

A hook-nosed captain sneered, “Who are _you_ to judge _us_? This organization has been around long before you were born.”

“I’m your gods’ blasted Chosen One, that’s who I am!”

“You certainly don’t act like it.”

“That is enough,” Regina barked. “How do you propose we work together when we are at each others’ throats? We have all done things we regret. No one is perfect,” she reminded the captains around the table. She then turned her gaze on Emma and advised in softer tone only reserved for her, “No one is entirely heartless. We are not born monsters but we certainly do not die righteous.”

“Regina is right,” Anderson settled. “We all hail from different worlds and opposing beliefs. It is imperative that we understand our motives. With that said, I have a responsibility to my people to protect their way of life. The Commonwealth is threatening that. You, Emma, as the Chosen One are all that stand between peace and all out war. But if you refuse your birthright there will only be war.”

“Birthright?” Emma spat. “You mean curse. You expect me to kill people in the name of your justice.”

“Justice belongs to every species who aspire to freedom. Those that cannot see that must be overcome.”

Regina inclined her head and declared, “You cannot doom them all just because of their naïveté.”

“I respect your faith in the people, but I cannot waste any more time trying to convince sympathetic politicians. That responsibility will lie with you.”

Her eyes blinked wide. She turned an ear, unsure if she heard right. “Pardon?”

“I have already spoken to my colleagues.” Anderson gestured to his assenting captains round the table. “We’ve all agreed to make peace as long as Admiral George stands down and clears my people of all terrorist charges. You and Emma will travel back to Earth and summon the High Council for negotiations."

“You’re not even giving us a choice?” Emma sputtered.

Regina ignored her. She already knew the answer and, frankly, she was tired of being cast to the side. The Commonwealth didn’t want her; they made that clear when her captaincy was stripped from her. The Raider’s had their just grievances, yet they agreed to make nice with the lesser of two evils. This needed to end.

Setting a serious frown, she inquired, “How much time?”

“You have twenty-four hours. If I don’t hear from you by then, my people and I will begin the assault.”

Considering the alternative, the concessions seemed fair enough. Regina lay back in her chair, and consulted Emma with a raised brow. She looked hapless, having failed to come up with another option or just plain tired of making decisions where the whole galaxy was concerned.

Emma simply blew out a sigh and threw up a hand in agreement. They knew each other well enough to read their thoughts – in a professional capacity at least.

Regina nodded to Anderson. “We will proceed immediately to Earth and put forth this treaty. But know this,” she held up a firm finger, “If Miss Swan and I achieve a truce with the Commonwealth and you break your word, the Raiders will have more to worry about than a fleet of battleships.”

“Your reputation precedes you, Commander.” Anderson grinned and bowed his head. “In other words: message received.”

* * *

It didn’t take long for _Storybrooke_ to turn into a hot bed of gossip. In close quarters on a starship, wild speculation spread like a solar wind. No one actually knew for sure what had been decided between the Raiders and Captain Mills and Emma Swan. They anticipated that penultimate call through the intercom stating their side in the battle. And so they waited in unease for that resounding voice of leadership.

David walked the corridors in search of diversion. He’d heard enough gossip to last him a lifetime. He could smell the fear and it clung to every no matter where he ran. Everyone was preparing themselves for war and he just wanted to forget for a while.

He passed the bustling cafeteria for the large room at the end of the corridor. The entertainment lounge was a club of sorts with a sitting area, a pool table, dartboards, and a wet bar that served alcohol. It was designed with large transparisteel windows offering a stunning view of space.

The lounge didn’t seem as obnoxiously active as the other parts of the ship, so David walked in. He panned around for a familiar face until his eyes hit the bar.

He approached her gingerly, not wanting to upset her solitude. Well, she wasn’t exactly alone. There were several bottles of beer around to keep her company – most of them empty by the looks of it.

“Hey,” he greeted Emma with an elbow to her shoulder. He took the stool to her right and signaled the bartender for a beer. “Are we celebrating or drowning our sorrows?”

“Neither. Care to join, anyway?”

David smiled, raised his first beer in salute, and tipped it back. “Assuming I’ll be briefed with the other senior officers, how about we skip the part about the Raiders and Admiral George. The decks are rife with talk of war and prophecy and it’s grating.”

“You read my mind,” Emma said, brightening to a new subject. She straightened in her stool. “What’s new with you?”

“Nothing much. I found out my friend is an android.”

“Yeah, there’s that.” Emma chuckled and took a long pull from her drink. “How are you taking it?

“As well as can be expected. Of course, I’m not as close with Mary Margaret as you are. It’s got to be hard to find out like you did.”

“It hardly compared to the rookie course of a speeder race.”

David squinted at the analogy. “Sooo not easy, right?”

“Not easy. I wanted to slap her upside the head for putting me through that.”

“I was speechless myself. I’ve seen a lot of strange things while in service to Cosmofleet, but I didn’t see this coming at all. Don’t misunderstand, androids don’t bother me. I think about how ostracized her kind are and feel ashamed of _my_ kind. There are so many narrow-minded people in this galaxy.”

Emma gave a derisive snort. “You can say that again.”

David drained his first beer and ordered another. While he waited he sunk into the kind of ill spirits Mary Margaret had experienced all her life.

“Hey, what’s up?” Emma nudged his pale, dejected shoulder.

The bartender set a new beer in front of him. He gave the man a halfhearted smile of thanks and stared down at the bottle like the mouth of it was a chasm.

A weighty sigh left David and he finally explained, “I understand the price one has to pay in disguising a part of themselves. It’s just as shameful to conceal it from yourself than from the intolerant.”

Emma knit her brow. “David…”

He raised his hand to stop her. “You don’t have to… Well, maybe you do. I don’t know. I’m just not used to being open about myself. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to talk like this with someone I trust.”

“No, I get it.”

David’s eyes met hers, hopefully. “Do you?”

The glass between Emma’s hands rotated at her fingertips. She shrugged, replying, “I had a foster brother once who found out about my… preference shall I say? He was pretty supportive, despite his bigoted parents. I never felt so safe, until the folks kicked me out a month later. I don’t think I have to explain why.”

David nodded grimly.

“Time flies when you’re having fun with the neighbor’s daughter.”

“Academy roommate,” he confessed with a raise of his drink.

“Damn, that’s rough.”

They went on to talk about their experiences – the good, the bad, and everything in between. David bought their next drink Emma promised the round after. They fell into a companionable cycle of drinking, confessing, bitching, and laughing.

It took three more beers than Emma predicted in pulling the subject out of David. Granted, he might have brought it up sober, but patience never was her strong suit.

“Killian?” David repeated, straightening on his stool. “No, I haven’t heard from him since the Jolly Roger dropped us off on Earth. Why? Has he contacted you?”

“No, he’s not the kind of guy who keeps in touch.”

“I see.” He squinted through the fog several beers produced. Licking his lips, he leaned in with an inquisitive furrow between his brows. “You think we’ll see him again?”

Emma grinned behind the lip of her bottle. A chuckle slipped as she thought of Killian developing ties with another humanoid. It wasn’t a surprise to Emma how curious the pirate was to David. Since she’s known him, Killian always came with a bit of mystery that men and women couldn’t resist.

“David, you understand Killian isn’t the type who likes to be tied down, right? He’s a smuggler. He runs at the first sign of trouble, and, honestly speaking here, the _Storybrooke_ carries a lot of baggage.”

David rolled his shoulder at that. “He can’t hold us all accountable for the Commonwealth’s crack down on pirates.”

“No,” Emma suppressed a giggle, “not _all_ of us.”

Turning back to his beer, David sipped it with a half a mind to inquire more about Killian. Absence bred curiosity and the pirate inspired nothing less. “How did he get that moniker anyway?”

“Hook?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Emma sighed, scratching the edge of her bandage, “let’s get this cleared up: he hates the name. Don’t dare use it in his presence or you won’t transmit home about it. Anyway, years ago he got in a bar fight – classy, right?”

David grinned like a fool. “Ever the scoundrel.”

“Yeah, so he and this other guy got into an argument – I forget what. I don’t even think Killian remembers. So things get heated, they're exchanging some salty words, then fists are flying, a vibroknife enters the ring and…” Emma makes a slicing motion with her hand.

David’s eyes broadened. “That must have been some vibroknife.”

“Legend says ten feet but I call bullshit. Killian doesn’t like to talk about length unless its concerning his –“

“I get it,” he interrupted with a furious blush.

“In place of his lost hand he got it replaced with a hook. Apparently, it had a menacing quality to it that made the locals shake in their boots. His words. That’s essentially how the name ‘Hook’ caught on. He got so sick of the name he did away with the hook completely. The new technological advances in prosthetics and his hearty bank account – not generated through the most ethical of means – allowed him the benefit of a fully functional replacement hand.”

“I could hardly tell the difference. I suppose that’s the point. I can’t imagine how thrilled he must have been to get his hand back.”

Emma raised a finger and said, “Problem was the prosthetic diminished his reputation. Think about it: a hook-armed pirate that went by the name of ‘Captain Hook.’ The hook was more than a tool it was a symbol. Once the hook disappeared so did his fandom, so to speak. I guess it’s like losing his manhood or something. I don’t know.” She rolled her eyes with indifference.

“So he axed the moniker of ‘Hook’ at the cost of fame.”

“Well,” Emma paused mid sip, “he wouldn’t have gotten rid of the hook if he’d known that. Unfortunately, the prosthetic is irreversible, so he has to live with his decision and the consequences of being a once feared and notorious pirate. He longs to gain back that reputation.”

David hummed in acknowledgment. “I get why he wants to be this galaxy renowned smuggler, feared and loved at the same time, but I can’t help thinking he fits in with us. Compared to other commissioned vessels, the _Storybrooke_ is a bit of a rebel in her own right.”

Emma nodded vigorously. “Especially now that we flipped off the government and stole their ship.”

“Yeah, that too.” David chuckled heartily. His amusement wavered then. Gaze shifting back to the bar, he got lost in his thoughts, desires, wishes. “I just wish he would stop believing that keeping his distance will tarnish his image. In some ways keeping in touch can be a good thing.”

Emma sensed the tangle of disappointment and hope in David’s plea and understood at once. Killian’s chivalry (albeit overzealous) had caught the attention of her chief science officer, but that didn’t mean there was any lack of stormy seas ahead.

“I just wish I knew what he was thinking, where he was…” David dragged off to nurse his beer in uncertainty.

She sympathized. A relationship between a smuggler and a fleet officer couldn’t be any more complicated than a relationship between a first officer and her commander.

“I have no idea where I stand with –“ Her lips wove shut. She began to pick nervously at the soggy label of her beer bottle. “I, uh… never mind.”

David nodded. She could have been referring to the Raiders and her uncertain future as the Chosen One, but he bet on the alternative. He wasn’t informed outright of Emma’s relationship with the captain, but many of the senior officers had a clue. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together when they persistently ogled one another in front of their own crew.

“Aimless, clumsy, and insecure.” With an expressive sigh, he raised his bottle and said, “That makes two of us.”

Emma grinned and clinked the necks of their bottles together. “To not having a clue as to what we’re doing.”


	14. Chapter 14

The steel railing of the repulsor pod sustained a brutal grasp. Regina was standing in her pod, still docked to its station in the sloping Council Rotunda. She could not seem to distract herself from the fact that 100 senators and 25 representatives surrounded her. Her eyes jumped from one nameless face to the next. Some whispered under their breath, others just stared. Then there were those sitting patiently in their pods, their minds already made up before Regina could plead her case.

Regina had developed bitter feelings over the meeting with Anderson. She was all for supporting the Raiders in defending themselves against Admiral George. After what the Cosmofleet took from her, she would have personally seen to the campaign in thwarting the Commonwealth. But what Anderson asked of her and Emma was much more than she expected. It was one thing to prepare a line of defense, but another thing entirely to instigate a war.

All things considered, it took the _Storybrooke_ by surprise when after arriving in Earth’s orbit they were cleared to make berth. This did nothing to ease Regina’s concerns. It either meant George planned to spring a trap or he had granted them a temporary pardon. She wagered the former.

As a result of mounting speculation, Regina ordered all unnecessary crew to remain onboard while she and the others prepared for the assembly. Putting forth a treaty to the foremost authority in the galaxy had a tendency to strike anxiety in the most experienced orator. Regina was no different, and she wouldn’t allow her crew to suffer as well.

With the expressed help of Regina’s long time mentor, Admiral Archibald Hopper, they were able to speak before the Council. It was a favor he could not refuse as Regina had done so much for the Commonwealth and only ended up getting the wrong end of the Korobi stick for it. And so he convinced the High Council to grant the crew of the _Storybrooke_ temporary clemency and allow Regina to come before them regarding new developments in the Outer Reach.

Without his support they might as well have turned themselves in. Following her suspension and the _Storybrooke’s_ illegal getaway, the only person she could count on to thwart Admiral George’s strike force was Archie. And from their previous discussions she had a feeling he was more than willing to play a part in George’s dethronement.

Accompanying her were Emma, David, Kathryn, and (as a surprise to everyone except Emma) Killian Jones. Regina bid Kathryn for support as she always felt the woman desired to throw her fist in some sorry admiral’s face. Having Kathryn on reserve was like having a cheerleader and a dodge discuss player in the stands, cheering her on and fighting for her at the same time.

David’s presence was a fluke and Killian was the solution. No one showed more surprise or blushing delight than David at this peculiar twist of fate. Based on the shit-eating grin, Regina supposed Emma had something to do with that.

The rotunda was filled to capacity and awaiting Admiral George’s opening remarks. This presented a marked difference from the last time Regina stood before the Council. Previously, before her rank had been striped from her, she could hold her head high and trust in a decade’s honored legal system. Now, under the watchful eyes of her betrayers, she felt trepidation as a chill ran up her spine.

Regina released her hands from the railing and looked to her right. Seated, leg bobbing and hands wringing, was Emma. Regina had lost count how many times that hand had combed through that tangled mess. She looked just as alarmed by the audience and just as inconsolable despite Regina’s efforts.

“Everything will be fine.”

Rolling her eyes, Emma threw her hands out and demanded, “Will you stop saying that? I hate that word… _fine_. It’s not fine as you can see, otherwise I wouldn’t be in this blasted position.”

Regina watched as the leg resumed its bobbing. “You are not even the one doing the talking. The only reason you’re here is to represent the Raiders. If we are to succeed, we have to subvert everyone’s image of the Freedom Raiders from terrorists to trusted allies.”

“Oh, yeah. No big deal. Just convince … _everybody_.”

“They know about your part in the prophecy now,” Regina revealed with a controlled sigh. “Admiral Hopper said as much.”

Emma’s hands dropped from her face. She regarded Regina seriously. “And you trust this guy?”

“I have always been able to count on Admiral Hopper’s support. After all, he made this assembly possible.”

“Great. I’ll be sure to thank him after I pass out in front of billions of people!”

Regina caught sight of one of the buzzing hovercams, just one of many televising the proceedings. At first it didn’t make sense, but then she understood. By keeping the public informed, George was casting himself in an honest light. The general population, having been fed on a steady diet of fabricated information, would eat up everything George spouted. Over the years he had proven himself to be a smooth talker. He was a magnetic character to millions already deceived. The misinformed public would watch this event like theater.

“It’s not that bad,” Regina assured softly. Her heart went out to the over anxious woman. “You’ll be fine.”

“ _Regina_.”

“You can do this. It’s myself I’m worried about.”

Emma looked up with a smirk. “You’ll do fine.”

“Thank you for the encouragement,” Regina shot back, feeling her nerves scramble.

“Doesn’t sound good, does it?”

At that moment, the rotunda lights flashed twice to indicate the assembly was about to begin. Senators and representatives hustled to their seats. Admiral Hopper, as moderator, sat with the Council and called everyone to order. The gavel fell to a soundboard that amplified its strikes through the entire rotunda.

“The Council recognizes Commander Regina Mills of the Cosmofleet starship _Storybrooke_.”

Regina smiled on the inside. It was nice to know someone in the Commonwealth still recognized her in _some_ capacity.

She engaged her repulsor to drift towards the center of the auditorium. When all could see her and Emma, she spoke so her voice reached every ear.

“Senators,” she began with raise of her chin, “representatives, and honored delegates, I have come here today with vital information to the Commonwealth. Just two days ago my colleague and I were invited to convene with various members of Freedom Raider high command. There we met with a man by the name of Zane Anderson who requested us to send a message to this assembly. This message is simple: they propose a treaty that will put an end to Commonwealth/Raider aggression.”

Regina paused to take a breath. While doing so she gaged the reaction of her audience. She received blank expressions – not exactly what she was expecting but at least George had yet to interrupt her. Regina snuck a glance at the Council and found him sitting in their ranks, a faint smirk on his lips. She fought to control a sneer and continued.

“I know what all of you might be thinking: the Raiders are terrorists; what proof is there that they can be trusted?”

Regina looked around at the faces. None of them wanted to be there today listening to this. She could not sell them a peace treaty from the Raiders if she kept this up.

She sighed, letting her stern posture down a bit. With a more informal style, she explained, “I am the last person in the galaxy who should be delivering this peace proposal. There is no one here more offended by the Raiders and their methods than I, however that was before I met them. I have realized the fanatical, depraved actions of the few do not symbolize the many. The Freedom Raiders have been around for many years and have not always been defined by ruthlessness. They were infiltrated and empowered by murderers, drug traffickers, con men, and anarchists.

“Many succumbed to this extremism, while a great sum chose not to follow. These separatists encompass the true meaning of what it means to be a Freedom Raider. They strive for their own basic species rights with the freedom to live and work where they wish without discrimination.”

Regina nearly sighed with relief. Her words were sparking some life in the crowd. She only hoped, as she caught a few senators whispering back and forth, that their perspectives were broadening enough for them to be persuaded.

“The Raiders are far from terrorists,” she declared, strengthening her voice to boom through the rotunda. “I have seen it. They are more than academy dropouts, violent rebels, and retired fleet generals with personal vendettas. The Raiders today do not take hostages or act through coercion. They are _people_ – men and women with families. They desire peace and prosperity just as much as Commonwealth citizens do.

“As an intelligent species, we have arrived at a critical stage in our existence. Civil war is brewing. Many will not accept that term, ‘civil war,’ but it is true. The Raiders are not unlike us. They are our equals and many have family and friends on opposing sides.

“It would be an insult to our sentience to cause our own destruction just because we could not work together. If we ignore the problem and refuse the solution, we would set our evolution back centuries. After all we have overcome as neighbors in this galaxy it is as simple as putting the past behind us and stretching forth the hand of goodwill.”

Regina could feel minds turning. Her passion to civilize society from Earth to the Outer Reaches was not an entirely foreign one. Although galaxy-wide peace was by no means a common idea, she succeeded in getting them to the edge of their seats, scratching their chins in thought.

Standing beside her, Emma straightened a little bit each minute the speech rolled on. Although she had no speaking part in this proceeding, she carried her weight by simply being there in silent support. Regina felt content at the thought that she could inspire someone as stubborn as Emma.

Thrusting her own shoulders back with renewed spirit, Regina wrapped up. “This proposal must be acted upon at once. The survival of this galaxy depends on it. I encourage every one of you to think about what I have said here today and take into serious consideration what is at stake.”

There was no applause and Regina didn’t expect any. She simply switched off her mic and stepped back from the railing.

Next to her, Emma stared in rapt fascination. Her green, unblinking eyes beheld Regina like she was a singularity of space and time. “That was amazing,” she whispered. “You were amazing.”

Regina didn’t bother suppressing a smirk. She may have been a little nervous beforehand, but now she knew she hit it out of the park (so to speak). “I am the daughter of a delegate,” she pointed out with a smug grin. “I grew up around politics.”

“Remind me never to cross you in a court of law,” Emma remarked with a chuckle and smooth wink.

A furious blush colored Regina’s face as she faced ahead, pursing her lips.

“I noticed that you left out the most important element of Anderson’s treaty,” Emma said discreetly out of the corner of her mouth.

“George’s deposing isn’t a great selling point,” explained Regina.

Emma nodded in agreement.

Now they awaited opposing remarks. Regina feared the Council more than ever. She feared everything now that she had more to lose than her life and her ship. Tallying the risks put things in bleak perspective. It also reminded her why she couldn’t fail.

One repulsor pod disengaged from its station and floated to the center of the chamber. Its elaborately uniformed passenger lit a blaze of anger in Regina and Emma.

“Noble senators and representatives,” George began with a deep bow, “this report cannot be corroborated from reliable fleet intelligence, therefore it has no place in this court.

It was short and to the point, proving how much a military leader he was than a politician. Fortunately, Regina anticipated it.

“And just why does my report require validation? I have been an honored member of the fleet for years and not once has my faith been questioned.”

Admiral George refused her with a guffaw. “Why should we trust a disgraced ex-commander?”

“Why should _we_ trust _you_?” Regina posed with a confident raise of her chin. “No one is immune from questioning, including a fleet admiral. Unless we are no longer living in a democracy every individual, regardless of rank, is responsible for his or her actions. I may be suspended from Cosmofleet but I am still a citizen and that grants me the power and the right to hold you accountable.”

A senator tapped his mic for attention. “Do you accuse the admiral of a crime, Commander?”

Regina hardly registered the respect of his using her former title. Her fiery glare never left George as she replied with a steely, “I do.”

“And have you evidence to support this accusation?”

Emma’s eyes shifted nervously from the senator to Regina. This was not how they planned to reveal George’s transgressions. It didn’t make sense to present the truth when he still stood front and center in the spotlight. Even with Ren’s evidence he’d find some way to spin the truth or worse: bribe the government and blow more smoke through the HoloNews.

“Yes, we have irrefutable evidence to prove Admiral George’s treason.”

A string of gasps cascaded through the rotunda. Heads turned to and fro. A collection of mutterings rose to a volume that forced Admiral Hopper to pound the gavel.

Regina could feel Emma stiffen beside her. Too early for talk of treason, she knew that. She just couldn’t let him get away with it, especially as he smiled at her like she had nothing. Well, she had something and it would put him away forever. But jumping the blaster didn’t resemble a smart move on Regina’s part. She let her emotions get the best of her. She was failing. It happened so often now, her feelings betraying her in a vulnerable moment.

Regina sighed. The rest of these proceedings might go downhill from here but there’s something to be said for having an ally standing beside her. Having Emma there, supporting with a ghost-like hand to her back, not touching, just reassuring, and Kathryn, David, and even Killian helped lift her spirits.

Shaking herself from her thoughts, Regina tuned back in. George continued to make a mockery of her. He jabbed a finger in her direction, slewing insults and false claims. His smile made her sick. He was so full of himself she wanted to vomit.

In the presence of so many bureaucrats, Regina fought to contain her frustrations. It would do the treaty no good to lash out. She had to proceed with caution, think before speaking, and use her brains not her emotions. Easier said then done.

Bristling, Regina decided at once that she could not allow George to monopolize the proceedings. Steeling herself, she seized one long step forward and activated her mic with a closed fist. “I charge Albert George with the attempted crimes of kidnapping and murder."

George made a face of annoyance, not so much at the accusations than being interrupted.

She pushed on before he could spin her words. “Four days ago on Earth, he dispatched a special forces team to seize four of my crew members and assassinate myself in front of my own home – without provocation, I might add.” She turned her glare on George and hoped he felt the heat from her eyes. Her lip curled and she said, “Admiral George has no intention to make peace with or without the Raiders. He has been leading this government and its people to ruin.” She ripped her eyes from him and swept throughout the rotunda. “You all know it to be true. I am not the first to grasp his treachery and I will not be the last. This Commonwealth was founded on principles of justice, equality, and order. I will die before I see it debased by _anyone_.”

The chamber fell silent as a backdrop to the wicked laughter. Admiral George laughed like a man without enemies.

“The _Storybrooke_ is no longer your ship,” he told Regina. “You lost that right when you kept critical intel from us. This very council found you guilty of deceit. We do not trust a Raider sympathizer. We are equally at war with you as we are with the terrorists.”

The hands at Regina’s sides clenched into fists. “I am _not_ a terrorist.”

“Then how do you explain your presence at a Freedom Raider summit? Were you not invited? You have not led us to believe that you were coerced into associating with these criminals.” George looked around, raising his hands to the onlookers. “I ask all of you, how does that _not_ make her a terrorist?”

“If anyone here is a terrorist it is you.”

The rebuttal came like a blaster shot. A trigger pulled could not be unpulled. The damage was done. She could not take it back. The rotunda erupted with chatter.

“ _Regina_ ,” came the scolding from beside her.

Regina’s head dipped. She closed her eyes in self-reprimand. Her and her gods blasted tongue. If she were a man, an outburst like that would have been expected - acceptable even. But as a woman her passion came across as aggressive. It may be 2260 but the double standard still endured.

“Order, order,” Admiral Hopper called. He banged his gavel for silence. “Order in the court!”

George swung his pod closer to Regina’s as if to pounce on her grave mistake. “This is unbecoming behavior for a woman who calls herself a faithful servant to the _fleet_ and the _Commonwealth!_ As the senior ranking flag officer of Cosmofleet, I order Commander Mills officially striped of her rank.” A leering smirk slithered across his lips. “After all, she is guilty of treason.”

The last word triggered a surge of conversation. Voices both embittered and elated clashed.

The lines across Admiral Hopper’s forehead deepened at this turn of events. His face turned gray in the midst of serious castigation towards his protégée’s activities. Suddenly, he remembered his duty as mediator and struck his gavel hard.

“This assembly’s purpose is not to rule on Commander Mills’ loyalties. The Council will deliberate and come to a decision shortly.”

“Shit,” Emma muttered, holding her forehead in dismay.

Regina crumbled before turning backs. Her downcast eyes filled with self-pity and anger and regret – emotions she wouldn’t normally display. Despite years of rigorous tutoring, her mother never prepared her for this.

She believed she was so invincible, so unaccountable. It never entered her mind, not for a single moment, that this might happen. In the shadow of downfall, Regina’s world crashed around her, and with it all her hopes and dreams.

*** * ***

“You’ll wear out the floor doing that.”

Emma faltered in her pacing and glanced towards the bench. Kathryn sat resting against the wall with her head lolled back and furrowing her brow. She was not the relaxed person Emma had come to know over the past few weeks. Wasn’t the psychologist supposed to be the one with the answers?

“I have a right to be nervous,” Emma told her.

“We all do.”

“Is that why you’re sitting out here and not waiting in there?”

Kathryn panned the hallway left and right. An empty hallway should have calmed her nerves but all it did was amplify their isolation. They possessed a startling lack of support and it showed in the solitude.

She heard the sound of voices that directed her to the two men talking animatedly in the vomitorium leading into the rotunda. Killian and David were clearly not sustaining the torment she and Emma were.

In the face of adversity every individual copes differently, she reminded herself. Just because Regina wasn’t their best friend didn’t mean they didn’t feel any remorse.

The heavy clomps of boot heels distracted Kathryn from her thoughts. She sighed, shutting her eyes, and pressing her fingers to her migraine. “ _Emma_ …”

“It helps me think.”

“That’s what worries me,” she mumbled. Emma may be street-smart, but she had a habit of letting passion and instinct rule over her actions. She didn’t so much think as she did jump and _then_ think. Regina had revealed as much during their scheduled sessions.

“When I was assigned to the _Storybrooke_ ,” Emma said distractedly as she paced, “Regina’s faith in the Commonwealth startled me. I mean, in some ways she looked down on people telling her what to do, but at the end of the day she had more confidence in the system than she did in herself.”

“She’s always been short with fleet authority, but what captain isn’t? On the other hand, I’ve known some and Regina is the most passionate supporter of equality and democracy. Most commanders just leave it to the politicians in charge, but not her.” Kathryn nudged her head towards the rotunda and said, “Representatives from various planets within the Commonwealth in addition to the Council are deciding on the fate of our future. I’d hazard a guess this is Regina’s first experience with true incapacitation.”

Emma nodded in agreement and added, “She’s not used to failure.”

“And she wouldn’t want people seeing that on her face. Regina is good a actress but she’s not _that_ good.”

Which explained why Regina excused herself to some unspoken location.

David walked over, the nerve at his temple ticking. “The Council has finished deliberating. They’re about to present the verdict.”

The passageway cut between several tiers and was used as an entrance and exit for crowds. They joined Killian where he was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. The senators and representatives were all returning to their seats. Oddly enough, no one seemed overly content or angered. A wave of neutrality spread through the stadium.

“Where is Regina?” David asked, searching for her nearby.

Killian scanned behind them, simultaneously bemused and entertained. “Making her grand escape is my guess.”

“Regina doesn’t cut and run,” Emma retorted. She folded her arms stiffly. “She’s not an unprincipled scoundrel with no care for or ties to anyone.”

“Well, not all of us have earned her _sterling_ record. She deserves whatever is coming.”

“What makes you think this won’t come back around to you, _Hook_?”

The obnoxious nickname triggered a growl between his clenched teeth.

“Emotions are running high,” Kathryn placated, raising her hands to prevent a possible collision. “Let’s just agree to disagree.”

“Agree to disagree?” Killian’s head reared forward so she could read his appall. “The world has reached a tipping point and it all comes down to a bunch of senior citizens out of touch with the galaxy.” He scoffed as he propped himself back against the wall. “Just look at them in their fine, silk robes.”

David tilted his head warily. “You don’t believe the Council will rule in just favor?”

“I’m a man of commerce, not faith. I fly where the trade winds take me.”

“An interesting motto,” David commented with a nod.

His incessant need to agree with everything Killian said brought Emma’s eyes to a roll.

The echo of a gavel striking cut the chatter. Admiral Hopper stood in his repulsor pod and began. He gave a brief summary of the discourse including Regina’s report and her appeal towards peace. When it came down to releasing the verdict he did something strange.

Emma watched in trepidation as Archie fell silent. His chin dropped to his chest and he seemed to be preparing himself with several deep breaths. Anyone could translate the behavior as reluctance.

By the time he finally raised his head a deep line had formed between his eyes. He spoke quietly into the mic. There was no trace of emotion; it was as if he swallowed it all down in that moment of pause. He moistened his lips carefully before picking up the gavel. His hand hesitated mid-fall, trembling, and then meeting the soundboard with a resonating _crack!_

The cacophony of footfalls and rustling robes hardly woke Emma from her stupor. Even when “session closed,” bounded off the rotunda walls, she remained still, eyes unblinking.

It wasn’t until she felt pressure on her shoulder did Emma breath again. She followed the hand on her shoulder to Kathryn. She wore a similar expression of disappointment.

“Someone should tell Regina,” Emma spoke up to the group.

Once Kathryn felt Emma’s insistent stare she smiled softly. “Something tells me she’d rather hear it from you.”

Head hung, Emma scratched the back of her neck. Sometimes it really sucked being second-in-command and pseudo friend to the captain. She stood idly, waiting for volunteers.

Based on their awkward attempt to avoid eye contact with her, Killian and David were in unspoken agreement. Emma sighed and walked out wordlessly.

She found Regina in a deserted corner of the lobby. The throng of senators and delegates had since trickled out. No one wanted to stay any longer than necessary. Most if not all had family waiting for them at home. And the setting sun always had a way of encouraging the workforce to the comfort of a set table and a hot meal.

Regina, however, had none of the above waiting for her. She didn’t even have a home to go to. By the way she sabotaged her allegiances before the Council, it would seem the _Storybrooke_ would be permanently taken away from her and with it her crew and the possibility of a family to share those hot meals with.

Emma’s confidence withered with every step taken. By the time she stood in front of Regina she hardly had the voice to express how sorry she was.

“They’re going to war, aren’t they?” Regina pulled herself from the haven that was her hands. Her face did not match her usual countenance. Bleak inevitability had swallowed her whole.

Emma’s face couldn’t fall any further. Defeat bore down like an extreme force of gravity. Her throat ran as dry as the Tume dessert. She still couldn’t get her tongue to loosen, so she settled for a meager nod.

Regina looked away. Emma didn’t know whether Regina was disgusted by the news or by her presence. Frankly, Emma would be pretty sick with herself, too, if she received that same pitiful nod.

Hands clutching her sides, Regina hunched over like she was indeed going to be sick. She closed her eyes and took several steady breaths in order to gain equilibrium.

Emma turned around slowly and sat down beside her. She didn’t know what else to do or say. ‘I’m sorry,’ was out of the question. Emma had a list of apologies as long as it took to get from Earth to the Moon – and all of them meant for Regina. She couldn’t provide contact because if she hadn’t learned from her mistakes before she certainly did now. Regina didn’t want her touching her any more than she wanted her kiss. It didn’t matter what Emma felt in that turbolift. Regina didn’t return her feelings and she never will.

Sitting with her had nothing to do with love or friendship. Emma’s ability to process all the confusion piling up since she rejoined the _Storybrooke_ had been exhausted. She was seconds from collapse and she needed to sit down.

It had nothing to do with love or friendship, Emma told herself. Regina just happened to be at the same bench.

* * *

“Does this place hold some significance to you?”

“No.”

“Do you come here often?”

“No,” Regina lied again.

“Forgive my questioning. I’m taken off guard by the location. At first I thought I misheard.”

“I am here, Admiral Hopper, so obviously I gave you the right coordinates.”

Archie twisted his head around to catch the musical laughter. Children of all ages from three to ten scampered on the playground equipment, testing their limits on the giant slide and waving excitedly to their parents that they “Did it!”

“Well, it’s the last place they’d expect to find you. I suppose that’s the point.”

Sitting beside him on the wooden park bench, Regina shielded herself from the memories the place worked up. She adjusted her sunglasses and turned the collar of her jacket up as a means to conceal her recognizable features.

“It’s ironic, I used to thrive in the spotlight. Now I’m running from it.”

She scanned the playground – dog walkers, dodge discuss players, picnic goers, and mothers watching their brood like hawks – and kept her eyes peeled for suspicious activity.

“He’s hunting me down, isn’t he?”

“Yes, and I’m afraid he’s doing so through legal means.”

Regina laughed bitterly. “If you can call buying off key members of the Council legal.”

Archie gave her a saddening tilt of his head. “It’s not what I expected either, Regina, but we can’t change what happened.”

“Oh, this was anything but a shock to me. Everyone in Cosmofleet knows George has wanted to militarize the fleet to its full extent. Thanks to my mother, I see government servants for who they really are: ruthless liars who care for nothing but their own careers.”

“If you actually believed that,” Archie said with light amusement, “you would not have asked me to meet you here.”

But Regina wasn’t listening. She had lost herself in a cycle of disbelief. Where had it all gone wrong? How could she have prevented this? Who could she trust? What did the future have in store for the Commonwealth? Where would she go now that she had been all but exiled from her home planet? The hardest questions to face were the ones chipping away at her heart.

“All George had to do was give the people a villain. He bought the press, planted seeds in the minds of the Council, and manipulated me like a weapon aimed at the Raiders.” Regina glared elsewhere and curled her lip. “Now he has his war.”

“What will you do?”

Regina’s head whipped around to meet him with a resolute face. “I intend to stop him.”

Archie smiled and nodded. “I was hoping you would say that. It won’t be without its challenges, of course, as he is already preparing a full-scale offensive against the Raiders. However, with the proof you acquired from your asset, Ren, Admiral George’s reign will be a short one.”

“It will take more than that.”

“Which is why you must stop this war before it consumes the galaxy. As you said, Ren’s evidence will not be enough to convince the government. It doesn’t matter that George committed treason. The citizens of this Commonwealth will only see the crimes of the Raiders. From their point of view, it is better to have George leading in their defense rather than be defeated by the enemy. You have to change that view, Regina.”

Regina stared warily. “What do you propose?”

“I suggest you warn the Raiders of the impending attack. Advise them to stand down. From what you’ve told me, Anderson seems to be a reasonable man. With an entire fleet aimed in their direction, he will do what is right for his people.”

“Which is more than George can say.”

Archie took off his spectacles and scrubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. Fatigue wore on his every feature.

She laid a hand on his tweed shoulder and asked gingerly, “Have you slept lately, Admiral?”

He gave her a look. “Have you?”

The corner of her mouth twisted and she veered her gaze away. Good point, she thought.

“There is no hope for the Commonwealth as long as George is around,” Archie resumed. He returned his glasses so they sat daintily on the bridge of his nose. “He has too strong a hold over the public, not just the Council.”

“There is no one else? What about your colleagues? Surely you can convince them to see as you do.”

“This is a game of strategic politics, and I never played it well.” The admiral quirked a smile. “Don’t let the title fool you.”

She grinned and gestured to his worn, brown loafers. “When you wear those, I never did.”

He chuckled, his cheeks turning a slight pink.

“This show of good faith on the part of the Raiders to stand down before the fleet,” she said, frowning, “you actually think this will work? That they will simply drop their weapons and offer themselves up in such a vulnerable position?”

“It is a risk, but if they are serious about this peace treaty then they will do what is necessary.”

“Forgive me, Admiral, but I just don’t see it happening. I have been in the company of these Raiders. While I believe they want to broach an agreement of sorts with the Commonwealth, I can’t shake my concerns. I have been at the hands of these Raiders and they are not willing to put the past behind them. Their people have sustained much loss at George’s brutality…” The undying currents of a few days ago triggered a ghost-like pang. “And mine,” she added wearily. “They will not forgive the Commonwealth or trust them.”

“This is not about forgiveness, Regina. This is about our willingness to put our differences aside. We fight for those who cannot.”

“By standing down the Raiders risk annihilation,” she argued vehemently. If they could not defend themselves, she’d have to do it on their behalf. Supporting her former adversary was a small price to pay for peace. “They will take their chances however they can; their entire fleet is conveniently gathered and ready to strike.”

Archie shook his head. “You’re thinking like a commander. This clouds your judgment.”

“And what? You propose I think like a politician?” Regina nearly choked on the mere thought. “That is absurd! Politicians are the reason why everything has gone to seven hells!”

“I was implying that you think like a citizen of this planet. What do you want most for your home world? For your fellow people? Whatever decisions you make should regard the protection of those you care for: family, friends, crewmembers.”

Regina leaned back a little to regard him strangely. “I never imagined you would advise me to act on my own selfish desires.”

“Actually, it is the least self-centered path you could take. With loved ones in mind, there is little chance you will be tempted to compromise your principles.”

A niggling sensation distracted Regina. The way he said ‘loved ones’ didn’t so much disturb as it did confuse her. He was never one to pry into her personal life and she didn’t remember claiming to any recent developments in that area. She was just getting used to this new urge to protect what her heart cherished. How could Admiral Hopper know? Had she really lost all ability to disguise her emotions?

Archie must have spied her turmoil and decided to push on. “You and Emma must act where no one else will. You must take the first step towards a better galaxy. It will be risky and there is no guarantee you will succeed, but what does it say about you as a person if you don’t try? Do you want your idleness to be on your conscience forever?”

The people she decided she couldn’t live without (in all their incurable faults) rose in her mind’s eye. She shook her head immediately and replied, “No, I can’t take much more on my conscience.”

He nodded and looked out at the playground. Children dashed about on the equipment with wide grins and weightless laughter. Even their parents, attentive to the slightest scrape, remained ignorant of the decisions being made and the battles waged on their behalf.

His hands scrubbed together as he studied their blissful state from afar. “I will be staying behind on Earth,” he said. “To maintain order when George is taken into custody.”

Startled, Regina straightened. She forced herself not to stand and draw attention to her wanted self. “You’re not coming with us?”

Despite his not meeting her eyes, he detected the panic in her voice. “If I could go with you I would. I am not made for space travel any more. Age and frequent nervousness keeps my feet on solid duracrete.” He gave an embarrassed chuckle, adjusting his glasses as he did so.

Regina smirked. Her mentor had always been a restless flyer. It explained why he never took her up on the offers to brush up on their skills in the simulator together. While he may be approaching retirement, his eyes did possess a very endearing childlike delight. His unwillingness, however, to join the mission crushed her motivation. Admiral Hopper was the only person in Command whom she trusted. He had always been at her side since the day she graduated from the academy. As a young first officer in the fleet she had counted on his guidance, which saw her through to her captaincy. He never failed to provide assistance, advice, or make good on a favor.

“I would feel more confident if you were there, but I understand why you must stay.” She smiled, albeit sadly under the circumstances. “I can rest easy knowing you have things under control here while George is off-planet.”

“I will not be able to do much until we have received word that the Raiders have proven their readiness to make peace. Once we do, I will have Ren’s evidence released over the HoloNet for all to see – no strings, no tricks. The truth as it presents. The people are smarter than George gives them credit for. They will figure out the rest.”

“Then I should leave this with you.” Regina procured the data disk from her purse and slipped it to Archie discreetly. She bit her lip idly before explaining, “In case something happens to me.”

“I have faith that it won’t come to that. In regards to space lanes restrictions, I’ve taken the liberty of pulling some strings with Earth Space Dock. You and your crew should have no trouble leaving the system. _Storybrooke_ will have safe passage departing Earth’s orbit.”

Archie paused and took Regina’s hand in his own, squeezing it gently. A flicker of unease passed over his face as he looked on the woman he considered a close friend and sometime daughter when she wasn’t disobeying counsel every other minute.

“Alliances are shifting, Regina; some for good and others ill. The line dividing justice from tyranny is fading. You must not trust Cosmofleet or anyone associated with the Commonwealth. We don’t know how deep George’s deception runs and I fear for your safety.”

Regina breathed out shakily, realizing the odds were severely against her. But then she felt the consolation warming her hand and the soft-spoken words weaving around her like a blast proof vest. “Thank you, Archie,” she murmured, admiration watering her eyes. She embraced his hand. “For everything.”

“I’ve always believed you had a purpose higher than taking orders from Command.” He grinned so that crinkles formed at the corners of his eyes, knowing from past experience that the sincere gesture boosted her confidence like fuel to an ion engine. “Good luck and may the stars guide you home.”

* * *

The _Storybrooke_ cut through space like a vibroknife through butter. To rendezvous with the Raiders before the fleet arrived they had to travel at maximum velocity. Though the ship was capable of this jump, it wasn’t recommended. When the hull yielded and things started quaking off their shelves it didn’t take an engineer to conclude that this hurtling rate through space boded ill for the ship and their lives.

Despite being under the blaster, Leroy grumbled that the sublight engines couldn’t take the insane speed. Regina had to spend a half an hour just convincing him to resume lightspeed. No one knew for sure the details of the discussion because they spoke in private, but the words ‘vacation’ and ‘new drive parts’ were overheard. After that talk Leroy proved to be as cordial as ever to his captain.

On the main bridge, the senior officers worked diligently to prepare for every possible outcome. They tried to stay optimistic about their chances because organizing for war just seemed too depressing. They couldn’t handle a loss of faith any more than their own lives.

David was sitting at the chair next to Ruby’s communications station. His posture displayed in a slouched, weary manner with his hand stroking his chin. He swiveled back in forth with a pensive look on his face.

“I don’t get it,” he murmured to Ruby. “How can they turn down even the remote possibility of a ceasefire?”

“It depends on who you’re asking,” she said, busying herself with communications duties.

David surfaced from his brooding. “What do you mean?”

“The fleet doesn’t see the Raiders like we do. Seven hells, I bet they haven’t even _met_ a Raider. They can’t see past the corrupt image Leopold has given everyone. To them it is an irrefutable truth that the Freedom Raiders are a threat to society.”

“But that’s not the truth.”

“From a certain point of view it’s not.”

“From a certain point of view?”

“It’s all about perspective, David.” Ruby’s fingers flew over her switchboard. She grinned and remarked, “Put that under your microscope.”

Frowning, David folded his arms and returned to his brooding.

Not far away a heated discussion ensued, effectively drawing the attention of the others on the bridge.

“We’ll be dropping out of hyperspace soon. That gives me ten minutes to suit up and prep my fighter.”

“Are you deaf? I just told you to stay put!”

“I’m not a dog, Regina. You can’t keep me on a leash.”

“Don’t you dare get on that lift.”

Emma whirled around, hands on her hips. “Is that an order or a recommendation?”

Regina tilted her head and cautioned her with a look. “Do not make me order you.”

For a moment it seemed as if Emma had half a mind to escalate the argument. It happened often enough and Regina looked ready to respond with equal venom. But then something caused Emma to unclench her teeth. Her hands dropped from her hips and her head retreated from where it reared forward in attack.

“I am not doing this with you,” Emma explained calmly. “I’m in the middle of a conflict that none of you seem to understand. I have allegiances to no one, and yet both sides want me to fight for them. My friends, who I still consider to be a part of the fleet, and those gods damned Raiders who think I’m their savior. Do you see my predicament?”

“You don’t have to risk getting shot up just to prove a point, dear.” A wave of rancor compelled Regina to roll her shoulder. This was like reasoning with an overanxious sublight drive. “You can just as easily avert war from here than you can from out there.”

“Look, I realize the moral dilemma. We can’t attack our own fleet. Those pilots and officers are just taking orders. Some of them are friends of our crew. And the Raiders… they’re just trying to start fresh and they can’t do it when George has pointed a neon sign at them saying ‘terrorists.’ As captain of the _Storybrooke_ you have more pull with the fleet than I do. And if anyone is getting anywhere with the Raiders it’s me – you’ve said it yourself.”

Pausing to take a breath, Emma took the opportunity to gage Regina’s reaction. She looked relatively unmoved, but then they had been at this dance for a while. Not much seemed to deter Regina and the tricks that did work had no place in the present conversation.

“Can’t we just leave each other to perform our respective duties?”

“Is that supposed to be your way of compromising?” Regina scoffed. “You handle the Raiders while I the fleet? You are sorely mistaken if you think I will be going along with this plan. This situation is too great to be dealt with on separate grounds. We are a team, Emma, and if you are going to negotiate with the Raiders, you will be doing it on this ship.”

Emma was already shaking her head and heading for the lift. “Not likely.”

Anticipating the escape, Regina yanked her back by the arm. “If you go out there you do so at great risk. I cannot promise to back you up with reinforcements if George incites his entire armada against us.” Her eyes, embroiled with terror and fury, flashed in earnest. “It is your duty as first officer when conducting a parlay to do so from your assigned vessel, not on their turf and certainly not alone.”

“I’m not a blasted diplomat, Regina. I’m a pilot!”

“Listen to me,” Regina said sternly. “We are on the brink of war. There are close to a thousand people out there, Cosmofleet and Raiders alike, and four hundred here on this ship. The only one you need to worry about is your son, and he needs you to lead. _I_ need you to lead.”

Emma looked up and over. Of course Regina brought Henry into this. It was just like her to hold something that huge over her with no escape. Emma had met a few foster parents who wouldn’t pause at the danger their actions posed to their children and she did not expect to be that kind of mother to Henry.

Her lips thinned before opening to a swift, “Fine. On one condition: I won’t board Anderson’s vessel, but I send the transmission from my cockpit.”

“From your cockpit?” Regina repeated, mouth open in horror. “That’s dangerous! What if it doesn’t work? What if you say something idiotic? You’ll be right in the middle of a firefight!”

“Excuse me, but wasn’t it you who said I’m the only hope for a ceasefire? How could I speak idiot if I’m their almighty Chosen One? In their eyes I can do no wrong.”

Sighing, Regina brought her hand up to her face in anguish. “Unbelievable,” she muttered.

“If I’m going to get through to them, they need to _see_ me. I can’t make them stand down if I’m on the safety of my own ship. The Raiders are not like the fleet. They’re not used to taking orders from a distance. They’ll listen to me.”

Emma’s words were wearing Regina down by the second. This passionate fortitude on display had an unlikely affect on her in that she felt more terrified than appreciative. In the past when Emma threw herself into danger it didn’t matter much what Regina did or said because Emma was jumping anyway. Now she felt like she _could_ have an impact on whether Emma stayed or went. That kind of power, though seductive, frightened her to defeat.

“You better be right.” Regina stared her down with a mixture of caution and desperation. “Please bring yourself back or else I will have to find another replacement.”

Emma smirked. “Are they all so unsuitable?”

“They are not all you.”

That wiped the smart-ass look off of her face.

* * *

Emma didn’t pack. She went straight for the hanger and hopped into one of the hanger’s Recon-A starfighters. Unfortunately, there was no time to take in the reassuring feel of the leather seat, the cramped leg space, and the controls at her fingertips. It had been two years since she’d flown solo and she couldn’t even enjoy it.

A roaring vibration sang through the panel and her seat. The craft began to levitate as its engines hummed to life.

“At least I haven’t forgotten how to lift off,” she muttered out loud.

Her fingers flew over the control board, beeps and lights engaging to her every move until her hands wrapped around the stick and maneuvered the nose of her fighter towards the containment field separating a lifeless vacuum from _Storybrooke’s_ pressurized hanger. She switched to manual control and went to head off the Raiders.

The convoy numbered in the hundreds. Their ships ranged from small fighters to medium-sized frigates to battle grade destroyers. The front line composed so many craft Emma could hardly see how far back it stretched. The rectangular shaped phalanx may be a simple formation but it concealed their true ranks to benefit.

Emma’s eyes widened to the scale. She never thought the Raiders had _this_ many members – and every single one of them willing to die for their freedom.

She gulped. If anyone understood their plight it was Emma. She spent years traveling from place to place before she found a suitable place to call home. For the Raiders, many were still searching, scavenging the dregs of what “good” society left behind for them to pick clean. And when resources dried up they packed up their families and left for the next planet. It was all temporary for them – shelter, security, even loved ones. They had sustained themselves through loss and a complex transition in leadership and it all brought them here.

She didn’t want to have to ask them to stop fighting for what they believed in. It would be hypocritical, not to mention a misuse of power. These people looked to her for guidance. They expected her to make decisions on their behalf.

At this point, Emma could care less about her role as a prophetic hero and liberator. She just didn’t want to make a complete ass of herself with the entire galaxy watching.

A flash of light came from her port side and she craned her neck to determine the source. It was a _Dread_ -class attack cruiser, the nearest star’s light bouncing off its shielding. They were positioned in a wide diamond formation, it’s point ready to impale and its flanks lurking in wait to pick up the slack.

Emma gripped the control stick. It collected the perspiration from her palm like a second skin. She glanced to her right at the Raiders and the left where Cosmofleet waited.

Blowing out a sigh, she shook her head and mumbled, “This is not a good place to be.”

Nothing about this put her at ease, not even the fact that she sat in a fleet commissioned vehicle. Cosmofleet were a bunch of trigger-happy yutzes these days and Emma felt about as safe as a rodent in a cage.

“It’s a traap,” she quipped to herself with a nervous chuckle. It then occurred to her how spaced out she sounded and she subsequently rolled her eyes. “Thank gods these cockpits aren’t wired for recording.”

A sudden crackle came in over her radio.

Emma fiddled with the dial to find the channel and when she did the transmission came in rich and warning.

_“Vessel will remove itself from the field immediately or face obliteration.”_

Without warning, a single red beam of cannon fire issued. It took seconds for Emma to react and swerve evasively. The shot missed her by centimeters.

“Blast!”

It definitely didn’t fit Cosmofleet’s rules of engagement. They could be ruthless, sure, but they were much more subtle about it. Also, it didn’t escape Emma that the shot came from the general direction of the Raider line.

“Seven hells! Stop firing!”

_“Identify yourself.”_

“This is Emma Swan speaking. Patch me through to Anderson.”

A pause. Then, “One moment.”

“That was quick,” she said to herself, shaking off her nerves. Apparently, being the Chosen One had its benefits.

Biding her time in the cool, silent cockpit, Emma tried not to think of the billion and one futures riding on this one transmission. She twiddled her thumbs against her thighs, eyes meandering the quiet battlefield. The calm before the storm, she thought. No man’s land, and she was smack in the middle of it.

_“Emma?”_

“Anderson?”

_“Emma, what in BLAZES are you doing out there? Have you lost your mind?”_

“I wouldn’t be out here if you weren’t in such a hurry to get blasted to space junk.” Emma looked around, shrugging casually. “Other than that, I thought I’d take a little vacation – see the sights, soak up some sun, get _shot_ at.”

 _“We’ve already had this conversation,”_ he stated firmly. _“I have thousands of pilots ready to attack on my command. We’d rather have you on our side and leading, but it cannot be through force. It must be your choice.”_

“Then my answer is no.”

_“Emma –“_

“Just put me on the damn channel, Zane!”

Anderson sputtered incoherently on the other side of the transmission, but in the end decided it wasn’t worth wasting time over. _“Alright. Can you hold on a minute while I connect you to the others?”_

“Yeah, sure.” Emma exaggerated a flourish of her hand. “I’ve only been waiting 30 years for this moment. What’s another minute?”

Emma propped her elbow on the side panel and started chewing her thumb’s nail.

She had no clue what she would say to convince the Raider’s to stand down and wait for a sign that wouldn’t come. What on Earth could she say that would make them listen? They had travelled across a dozen systems to get here and now some sorry excuse for a Chosen One was going to tell them off. Who did she think she was?

It wasn’t the ideal situation Emma predicted she’d be in or the safest. They could just as easily shoot her down with their words than their torpedoes.

From the minute Anderson revealed her destiny Emma had been hesitant to take on the mantle. Even now she shied away from the responsibility. It was just too much. But then she remembered back to what Ren had said. When the weight of a billion became unbearable, focus on the few that mattered.

Closing her eyes and breathing in deeply, Emma imagined Henry and Regina playing sim games with their visors, laughing, teasing, and elbows prodding to throw each other off their game. The day was tomorrow and they were as happy as ever, and they were safe because Emma shouldered her duty with only their faces in mind and their names on her lips.

She could do it, she thought to herself. For them.

* * *

“Just what in seven hells do they think they’re doing?!” Regina roared. Her boot heels rapped violently as she charged at the forward viewport. “She’s hardly a threat and they fire on her?”

Her senior officers looked at her in alarm. They had just witnessed the shot fired on the lone one-man fighter and its swivel maneuver to safety. They were all livid, but not as livid as their commander.

“Raise the alarm,” she growled, marching back to her chair. She jabbed on the armrest panel buttons for a response. “I want that ship destroyed.”

“Whoa, Regina – I, I mean _Captain_ , I don’t think that’s a good idea.” David eased out his hand but didn’t dare lay it on her.

She shot him a look that could have melted durasteel. “And why is that, _Lieutenant_?”

“U-uhm…”

Ruby dashed in just in time to save her fellow officer from a flush out of the airlock. “Emma wasn’t hit,” she insisted gently, pointing out at the intact starfighter. “See? If I know her, she’s bound to come up with a plan.”

“Are we talking about the same person? This is Emma Swan. She doesn’t so much formulate a plan as she does throw one together with duck tape and a spanner.”

Threading her arms together on her chest, Ruby made a face and shrugged. “Better than no plan.”

“She’s going to get herself killed. This whole operation is futile. I don’t know why I allowed her to go out there.”

“Key word here being ‘allowed’ not ‘ordered.’ And you allowed her because she is the only one who can get through to the Raiders.”

“I’m trying to _help_ her.”

Ruby noted the pleading and frustration on Regina’s face. She was pleading with her to see through to her motives. Regina didn’t want to blow things to space dust as per her usual objective. She genuinely wished to save Emma from a failed plot and her own demise.

“Okay, I believe that you want to help Emma, but you have to take a step back here and think like a commander. Look at the big picture. Will stepping in on a sensitive situation help her or hurt her?”

“Do not tell me how to do my job.” Regina’s snarl came out half-hearted. She was slowly realizing how un-captainly her actions were and how quickly she was spinning out of control. And all because of Emma, the one person she’d tirelessly distanced herself from these past few weeks. “What do you expect me to do?”

“I don’t take pleasure in saying this, Captain, but you need to stand down yourself. Disrupting the negotiations will do Emma more harm than good.”

Regina bit her cheek in consideration. Her eyes searched the floor, frantic for an answer. When logic surfaced in the murky waters of personal urgency she finally backed down.

“We will not make any undue action until she comms in,” Regina settled with a firm nod as if she came up with the solution in the first place.

Sparing a wary-eyed exchange, David and Ruby returned to their seats. Everyone forced their captain’s passionate response from their minds and focused on the main goal.

The wait began. The minutes passed like hours and eyes grew weary from squinting. They watched for any sudden movement, but the small Recon-A fighter remained as inert as a free-floating asteroid.

When there was movement it spread through the entire army. Raider ships began a slow retreat from their original position. Emma’s fighter tipped its wing in their direction, an indication of her success.

Belle rubbed her eyes before staring hard at the creeping withdrawal. “Do you guys see what I’m seeing?”

“They’re retreating!” Ruby gasped, clapping ecstatically.

“She did it!” David cried, rising from his chair. “Emma did it!”

Rumple sighed heavily. “You humans and your idealistic convictions.”

“Oh, Rumple.” Belle swatted his shoulder before embracing him.

At the height of his excitement, David paused and mused, “But how did she convince them?”

“Indeed,” Rumple droned boringly from within Belle’s arms.

“We’re about to find out,” Ruby said. She brought her finger to the device at her ear, straining to hear over the static. “Emma?” She engaged communications to transmit the hail to the transmission table. “She’s on!”

“Miss Swan,” Regina drawled, sashaying to the table, smirk in place, “you managed to keep yourself in one piece this time.”

A mirthful laugh emitted from the table’s flickering blue light. _“And not at the expense of injury or breaking regulation.”_

“Are the Raider’s actually standing down, Emma?” David asked with a growing smile. “How did you ever do it?”

_“Oh, well, it was just a matter of taking what I got and using it to my advantage. In this case, a prophecy. I told them if they trust me as their Chosen One, they should trust my judgment. Apparently, they trust me.”_

“Appealing to their sense of faith…” Ruby nodded, surprised, “that’s clever.”

“You are certainly living up to your title today,” Regina pointed out.

_“I’m kinda liking this Chosen One thing. It has its perks.”_

“Don’t get comfortable, Miss Swan. This isn’t over.”

_“Oh, right. You have to convince a bunch of fleet commanders to ignore their egos and call it a day.”_

Regina’s skin tingled with agitation. Tentative to accept her role in this precursor to war, she managed to squeak out a meager “Mm-hm.”

Emma was feeling invincible, so she didn’t bother holding back the snort and, _“Good luck with that.”_

Emma caught the faint mutter of “Smug idiot,” and smiled widely.

“Thank you for that, dear,” Regina rephrased, the roll of her eyes coming in over the radio waves.

Emma’s laugh died down. _“Really, good luck, Regina. You’ll knock ‘em dead.”_

“That’s not particularly the objective here, but I grasp your metaphor.”

“Gods, you two.” Ruby shook her head and swiveled her chair back to her post.

“I will need you aboard if these negotiations with Cosmofleet go anywhere but ideal.”

_“Copy. I’m heading back.”_

The transmission table faded off-line. Leaning on the surface with spread hands, Regina took a moment to draw in a steady breath and prepare herself mentally for what she was about to undertake.

“Lieutenant Lucas.”

“Yes, Commander?”

“Hail the fleet.” Her brow furrowed as she felt a growing pang in her neck. She reached to sooth it. “Tell them to open a channel to every officer in command of a fleet commissioned vessel.”

Ruby hesitated. “Not the admirals?”

“No, the commanders should suffice. I wish to speak with my equals.” Regina withdrew her hand from the kink in her neck and regarded the curious expression. “Unless you do not concur with my order.”

“Oh, I concur,” she asserted quickly and went back to her panel.

Regina inclined her head. “Good.”

“Is everything alright?”

She flinched at David’s soft tone and bit back a snarl. He was just concerned, that was all. They were all concerned about her and she should be lucky to receive treatment like this after the many oversights she had put them through.

“I am tired,” she replied, and feeling the truth of it in her aching neck and restless eyes. “But functioning,” she added with vigor

“You don’t have to convince me,” David assured with an understanding look and returned to his station.

“You’re on, Captain.”

Regina returned Ruby’s nod and stepped up to the glowing transmission table.

“Commanders of Cosmofleet,” she began, employing every last shred of strength her rank afforded her, “this is Commander Mills speaking from the U.S.S. _Storybrooke_. We all know why we are here, so I will be brief. I have critical intel to share regarding this conflict. Just minutes ago the Raiders have resolved not to enter into a war with the Commonwealth. They will not attack unless provoked. You do not have to take my word for it. As you can see from your position their ships have retreated.”

The channel, though open, did not sputter in response. Regina didn’t expect them to agree with her any more than they might argue. They were ostracizing her with silence – a brilliant yet brutal tactic.

“I am not a fool. I know what you all must be thinking: a disgraced former officer turning her former establishment against itself. In a way, that is perfectly accurate. I am a disgraced ex-captain who seeks retribution. But my betrayer is not the fleet. My betrayer is one person. My fight is not with you but with George, he who calls himself admiral and, before this war is over, emperor of the Commonwealth. George is a tyrant and none of you owe him loyalty. He has done nothing for you but pit you against a foe that has no intention of warring.

“I am a commander as many of you are. I know the daily pressures of managing a crew of hundreds, upholding procedure, and carrying out directives, all in the process of weighing one’s principles. It is an unfair burden but we do the best we can.

“With that said, I cannot in good conscience make this decision for you. All that I ask is that you do what you must to protect your crew, not your admiral. You crewmembers inspire, stand by, and spill blood for you. Where is George? Hidden amongst your frigates and fighters until his commanders sacrifice enough of their crew to ensure him safe passage center stage.”

Regina felt the eyes on her and she raised her chin to meet them. David, Ruby, Belle, Rumple… her tired, her faithful, her concerned senior officers. Oh, they had indeed their faults as well as their contributions.

Over the years they became more valued to her personally than professionally. She had learned recently that being captain wasn’t about making rules and throwing her weight about. It was about uniting in rough times, inspiring them, and fostering trust where none existed before. These deeds spoke more towards parenting than it did managing a ship. Frankly, leading this crew had resembled something close to holding together a dysfunctional family. That kind of bond had its upsides and yet it wasn’t without struggle.

“You do not have to trust me. Trust your own. Look into their eyes as I do now with my own and ask yourselves if their lives are worth this conflict. We are constantly overruled by a bureaucracy lightyears away. Are you willing to obey leaders who have no understanding of the present situation? To believe in a man who hides behind his army? Is that the kind of leader Cosmofleet wants? Or would you rather have someone who is willing to go to the front lines, stand beside their fellow crew, and stare down the opposition?”

Regina wet her lips and pounded her hand into the table with fervor. “It is utter folly to substitute someone else’s judgment for your own, especially when you’re the person best placed to decide.”

Nothing further came to mind. For Regina, what had been said was enough to convince her people; each and every one of them returned her speech with a nod of respect and affirmation. They were with her and that’s all that mattered.

“Your crew awaits your decision.”

Regina ended the transmission with no fluff, tricks, or promises. A commander didn’t deal in fancy language and lofty monologues. They evaluated and acted with the swiftness of a drawn blaster.

She stepped away from the table and looked out the viewport. Wringing her hands, she and the rest of the bridge waited for the fleet to decide. She did all she could. It was out of her hands now.


	15. Chapter 15

The hanger Emma returned to was a very different hanger than she departed from. She had never seen it filled to capacity (and it was a sizable hanger).

A crowd of engineers and personnel swarmed her fighter and as she climbed down from the cockpit several hands went out to help her down. Whoops and hollers filled the cavernous area. A celebration was in progress. A celebration they fully intended Emma to participate in.

She had heard the transmission on the way back to _Storybrooke_. Regina’s words had been durasteel and they had stirred her heart indescribably. She couldn’t imagine anyone turning down that kind of call to conscience. In the time that she had been in service under Regina, Emma had never been so proud to have her for a commander.

“Is it over?”

The wide smiles and pats on the back were answer enough.

The breath in Emma’s lungs caught. Her eyes widened expectantly. “Regina reached a truce?”

“You both did!” cried an engineer with tears in his eyes. “We were sure there’d be a fight, but you stopped it! There’s no war!”

“No war!” they shouted simultaneously. They threw their arms high as if chucking off the shackles of oppression.

“And George?” Emma inquired, apprehension crinkling her brow.

“In a detention cell! How’s that for payback?”

“His second-in-command led a mutiny and stripped him of rank through some obscure due process.” The engineer beamed at his compatriots and said, “Captain Mills’ speech must have sunk in.”

“Wait,” Emma held up a hand in confusion, “you guys heard the negotiations?”

“Of course we heard. And can you believe no one responded to her? Not one. But she plowed on like it didn’t bother her. She could have been talking to a vacuum for all she knew and, still, she didn’t back down for a second.”

“Yeah, at first it didn’t sound at all like Captain Mills but then she was talking about standing up for her crew and it got us thinking…”

A grubby-cheeked female technician pushed in through the throng and asked with a serious expression, “She wasn’t kidding was she? About making decisions for the good of the crew?”

They all looked to Emma for confirmation. Ironic as some of these people had instigated a near mutiny against Regina, a woman they spoke of now with new found admiration.

“Regina says what she means,” she replied. “I doubt it was a trick.”

“You know what this means, don’t you? Now we have two celebrities on our ship. Ain’t it stellar?!”

A numb sensation prevented Emma’s fingers from unzipping her flight suit. They fumbled like lifeless fingers. Celebrity, she thought. The word knocked around in her head like an aimless asteroid.

Someone gripped Emma’s shoulder and shook her from her stupor. “You’re famous, Commander!”

She gave up on the zipper and smiled weakly. “Yeah, that’s great.”

As if on autopilot, she brought her hand down on the guy’s shoulder, returning the pat, and began to slowly plow through the crowd. People shook her hand, people she couldn’t place a name to. They patted her back and congratulated her on a job well done. She was hailed as a liberator of the subjugated peoples of the galaxy, a leader and hero who deserved a place most high on the Presidio’s Wall of Commendation.

She accepted the titles with a firm handshake and a wide smile, but behind those appreciative green eyes her dreads multiplied. Feigning gratitude could only last for so long. She nearly sprinted the last feet to the turbolift and slapped the doors shut before any further words of tribute could seep through.

The smile faded like a dying star. Everything underneath grew to the surface in a grey, sullen wave. She leaned back against the lift wall, arms hanging loose at her sides, and head falling back with a thump.

Truth be told, Regina’s speech did more than uplift her – it shed a glow stick on the things Emma begrudged to face up to. Regina’s ideals had never changed; they just became more public. She always possessed a mind for duty. This passionately upheld mentality forced Emma to confront her own ideals and a future where she put them to good use. Talk of responsibility, allegiance, and conscience pestered at Emma from the moment that engineer spoke of her celebrity to when the hatch of her quarters sealed shut behind her.

Alone and sitting on the edge of her bunk with her head in her hands, Emma allowed the epiphany to sink in. A lot of good came from what made her the person she was today: a mother, a friend, and an officer.

When she thought of Henry she couldn’t help but smile at how happy a child he was, how loving and funny and, at times, goofy he displayed on a daily basis. Even when she wasn’t around she had the proof of memory.

Mary Margaret… such a giving woman and shameless friend – one Emma couldn’t imagine her life without. And then there was David, Ruby, Leroy, and, seven hells, even Killian Jones. _Storybrooke_ had given her so much, but the steadfast friendships rated highest on that list.

Becoming a first officer had to be the worst and best thing that had ever happened to Emma. Despite her illegitimate promotion, she would be remiss to find all fault with Leopold’s disingenuous string pulling. She couldn’t regret the years she spent toiling through the academy because it all lead her to Regina. And meeting Regina had to be the greatest test of her character.

Everything about what made Emma a person didn’t seem to matter now. Fresh obligation spawned out of a black hole; it outweighed motherhood, friendship, even love. It threatened to topple the roles Emma held dear, the responsibilities she longed to understand, perfect, and see through till the end of her days.

Now, in the penultimate moment of victory, when a wave of relief was sweeping through the galaxy, Emma felt anything but.

* * *

Regina had no idea what to expect when Emma asked her to meet her in the hanger. They had yet to have a proper discussion about what occurred in the turbolift and just thinking about it goaded Regina’s anxiety.

The closer she got to the prescheduled meeting location the faster her heart rate picked up. The thought of that kiss, the memory of Emma so close, overwhelmed Regina to befuddlement. She had no idea what Emma wanted from her, especially after this war had been averted. It left them with quite a bit of time to sort this mess out.

A dimly lit corner of the hanger provided privacy and a quiet area to exchange a dialogue amid the racket of machinery and engine drives. Regina pivoted on her heel and found herself alone and hidden from view by two long cargo lifters. She tensed, realizing how trapped she was.

Not much time passed before boot falls approached. Emma ducked under the crane with a little smile. “Hey.”

Regina sighed, shoulders relaxing in relief. “Emma.”

“Glad to see you found the place alright. It’s kind of out of the way, but thanks for coming.”

“Did you hear that Anderson and the fleet have just finished peace talks?” At the shaking head, Regina apprised her of the developments. “They’ve come to an agreement that pardons all Raiders with no history of violent crimes against all human and non-human society. Seeing as most of Leopold’s faction has dispersed, that leaves quite a lot of people to exonerate. It’s a victory for the Raiders.”

“I’m not sure they will see it that way,” Emma contended. “They already know they’re not terrorists and yet the Commonwealth sees fit to forgive them. If you ask me it’s the government who should be begging for mercy, not the other way around.”

“In any case, it is a fresh start for the Raiders and Anderson was smart not to waste it. Admiral Hopper has had George and his mercenaries arrested. A formal hearing will be scheduled and to which I should think the admiral will finally receive his comeuppance. In addition, the Council has agreed to promote reforms to reverse the damage George has wreaked on people’s rights.”

Emma weaseled her hands deep in her pockets and smiled. “That’s good.”

An anomalous silence fell. Regina’s eyes left Emma’s for only a moment to reassure herself that time was still passing. “What’s wrong?” she asked, brow furrowed.

“Nothing.”

Regina shifted her weight. “It doesn’t sound like nothing,” she insisted with a hand to her hip. She looked Emma over with growing concern. “You don’t reply that quickly unless something is wrong.”

Emma folded her arms. “Are you saying I’m slow?”

“There’s no reason to be offended. You must know by now that I see through your pretexts.”

Giving up with a sigh, Emma let herself be scrutinized by the acute eyes. Regina was right; they knew each other well enough to call bullshit. If only Emma had enough insight from the beginning. Maybe then she wouldn’t be in this gods forsaken position yet again.

“There is something,” Regina murmured. Cold, unnerving fingers bound her gut in a vice. “Isn’t there?” She placed her hand to her middle to calm the unease – futile as it turned out.

Shifting on her feet, Emma took a deep breath, her eyes never wavering from Regina’s. The sigh escaped like a gust as she threaded her fingers through her long blonde hair. “I thought a lot about what you said, and you’re right.”

Regina, unsure what part of her being right Emma was referring to, tilted her head. “I am?” she asked, a little surprised by the announcement. She never thought she’d see the day Emma admitted to being her inferior.

“Yeah,” Emma confirmed. Sorrow shaded her expression like a cloud, but she knew what she had to do was best for everyone. “You accused me of using Henry as an excuse to avoid the life I turned my back on. You also mentioned that he understood the importance of why I had to return.” She shrugged. “You were right.”

Regina held her breath in the case that she would be jolted awake soon. “You just realized that?”

“That and the reason why I came back – the real reason.” Her eyes flitted away and back as if she weren’t confident enough to meet Regina’s questioning stare. “It’s not what you think. Henry… he was the only one who could have got me on that shuttle that day. I couldn’t handle shattering the image he had of me. I wanted to teach my son that ordinary people could do extraordinary things. I had to prove that no one could prevent you from following your dreams but yourself. The only way I could do that was by leaving Earth.”

Regina frowned over the explanation but allowed Emma to continue.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” Emma said with a humorless laugh, “that reason is kind of invalid now. I’m no less ordinary than I was when I set off Earth. It’s pointless to kid myself into thinking I’m a regular Mary Sue. I can’t lie to myself anymore than I can lie to my own son.” She wet her lips. The pause wore her down her flow and produced a blush to her face. As a means of distracting from what festered under the skin, Emma looked around and forced the words out before her throat closed unexpectedly. “If I continue on this path, I risk everything I ever taught him about being true to himself.”

“You’re leaving,” Regina concluded in a breathy sigh. A deep furrow developed between her brows as she stared harder into Emma to see past the ruse. But there was no ruse. Emma laid herself and her intentions bear as ever. Regina would be impressed at her putting herself out there if it weren’t for the shock. She swallowed, finding breathing a bit of a chore all of a sudden.

“I’m expected to play this role I haven’t prepared for.” Emma chuckled grimly and mused, “It’s like I’m in high school and the teacher is asking me to stand up at the front of the class and perform my part in a play. It’s like a bad dream and I want to wake up, Regina.” Emma lifted her hands up feebly. Face warped in frustration, she stressed, “But I _can’t_.”

Regina had yet to recover from her stupor. She just stood, blinking and trying to process what Emma was telling her. Lagging behind in conversation wasn’t exactly a quality Regina exhibited often if at all. And yet it still hadn’t occurred to her that what Emma was really doing was saying _goodbye_.

Emma, eyes wide and unsure how Regina was taking this, rushed on before she could be stopped. “I don’t know who I am. I especially don’t know who I am with you and that’s why I can’t stay here. Believe me, you’re not to blame. I can’t bide my time in limbo forever. I have to find answers.”

Regina answered with a hand that met Emma’s cheek in a resounding slap.

“That is the most selfish thing I have ever heard,” Regina seethed. Her jaw worked in anger as Emma cupped a hand to the already reddening print on her face. She felt no remorse; she couldn’t when such idiocy was being spouted before her. Her eyes narrowed accusingly. “You have to find _answers?_ What is the importance of answers if it means throwing your role as a _mother_ out of the airlock? How is Henry supposed to react when he finds out his only parent has gone on some pseudo existential journey to find herself?”

“He’ll understand.”

“ _I_ don’t even understand. How will a six-year-old?”

“Before, Henry told me I had to take care of myself by reenlisting and I haven’t been doing a good job of that. I broke my promise.”

“And abandoning your only child is your way of setting a good example? I know you must see it as a benefit to you and your pending freedom, but tell me, how does that benefit _him?_ ”

Emma advanced a pace, eyes flashing in urgency. “Because he doesn’t need me. He has you.”

“That is an awfully great assumption you are making about your own child.”

“I just have so many people looking to me to build them a better future and I can’t even get my _own_ life in order!”

“So don’t,” Regina challenged, almost pleadingly. “Refuse whatever burden you have been given. Just because it is written does not mean you have to give up your life to be their savior. You don’t owe them anything.”

“You just accused me of being selfish. How is what you’re suggesting not the same thing?”

Regina rolled her eyes, hedging a response. Her eyes fluttered as she grasped, “Because it is not the same thing! It just isn’t.”

Emma folded her arms over her chest and challenged amusingly. “Why? Because you said so?”

“Yes!”

“Do you hear yourself?”

“Do you?”

“I think if anyone is being selfish here it’s you. Not to be argumentative –“

“Oh,” Regina’s scoff brimmed over with sarcasm as she flourished a hand, “please do.”

“You know I’m not good to anyone like this. I’m a blasted mess, Regina. I don’t know what people want from me any more than I know what I want of myself.”

Regina crossed her arms as if to ward off common sense. Chin downturned, she remained obstinately silent.

“This Chosen One thing isn’t my only concern,” Emma continued. “I can’t inspire this crew the way they want me to, especially if you’re by my side. It’s not your fault –“

Regina opened her mouth to interject but Emma beat her to it.

“You said it yourself: I’m irresponsible and rash. I’m not who you need me to be and if I’m going to be this hero to the galaxy, I’d like the people I care about beside me. But right now…”

“We’re not ready,” Regina finished gravely. She looked away, unable to meet Emma’s eyes.

Emma worried at her bottom lip and nodded. This was much harder than she thought it was going to be, and she anticipated this as pure torture. The truth of it being that the worst had yet to come.

Taking a deep breath, Emma lifted herself up in some semblance of resolve, even if it felt anything but on the inside. “It’s my wish for you to take care of Henry while I’m away. Where I’m going, wherever that is, is no place for a kid.”

Astonished, Regina managed to choke out, “You must be joking.”

“I trust you with him. Hell, I trust _him_ with _you_.” Emma chuckled, rubbing her forehead wearily. She looked up, eyes filled with gratitude. “He’s nuts about you. Staying with the captain of the _Storybrooke_ will be an adventure for him. I’m sure he’ll be the talk of the school, have more friends than he can handle, and have the teachers asking him for your autograph.”

Shaking her head a bit, Regina couldn’t believe Emma suggested handing Henry over as a solution, and yet she was and making jokes in the process.

Regina exhaled a laugh, holding the elbows of her arms. “He’s already come to me about autograph requests.”

“Henry,” Emma scolded mildly, not fighting the grin. She ran a hand through her hair, tugging at the snarls and eliciting a pain she needed at the moment. “I know you love him. I can’t even begin to explain how much.”

Regina’s lips parted but her throat ran dry and her eyes abounded with tears.

“I see how you look at him,” Emma’s breath hitched, “and I understand that swell you must feel in your chest when he does something mundane like blow the bangs from his face or frown at something too young for his mind to grasp.” Her voice wavered, so she swallowed, albeit audibly. “I want you to know it’s okay. I’m glad you feel that way because if you didn’t, this would be so much harder.”

“You are handing your son over to me,” Regina indicated. She shook her head like she couldn’t understand why it had to be done, but deep down she knew. “That is hard enough.” Her eyes fell and she swallowed over the growing lump. “I don’t think I can do this. You can’t know… I’m not a mother.”

Emma raised her brows expectantly. “Can you cook?”

Blinking in a double take, Regina looked like she had been asked about xenomorphology. “C-can I what?”

“Cook. Like… food.”

Emma was really serious. Regina may have been dreaming, but she didn’t expect her wildest dreams about Emma to entail the interrogation of her culinary skills.

“I-I think I can learn how to make pancakes,” she figured uncertainly with a flutter of her lashes.

“That’s…” Longing swelled in Emma like an overflowing spring. She missed them so much already. “That’s great,” she said with a chuckle and a sniffle. “You have so much to offer him, so much more than I have given him the past six years. Somehow I still wonder how I managed on my own. I wonder if I had given him up… if he belonged to someone else… he would have ended up with someone better. Someone like you.”

“You can’t think like that. You can never forget the impact you’ve made. You have given him everything, Emma. I don’t give you enough credit for nurturing him into the boy he has become. I thought I was the model daughter, but look how I turned out. Henry hasn’t experienced the torment I have and that is because of you.”

Emma smirked. “You’re not so bad.”

“I know. I was testing you.”

Emma narrowed her eyes in return. “At least I can admit to passing _one_ of your tests.”

Regina smiled, chuckling. “You know, any decent parenting example I have to go on is not from my mother but from you.”

“Whoever thought, huh?”

Before Regina could soak up the pleasant moment, a moment of rare opportunity wherein she was not at war with Emma, her laughter dragged off into oblivion. What remained came in the form of a paling ghost of an expression. “Emma… why me?”

Before either registered it, the few paces that remained between them closed. The cacophony of machinery and chatter faded into the background.

“You know why.”

The breath rattled in Regina’s lungs. It took too much effort to stem the outpouring of emotion. She simultaneously burned in anticipation and quivered with dread. “You keep leaving.”

Emma gave Regina the same solemn look. “This time I have to.”

Warm brown eyes pleaded to end it. Pride prevented Regina from following through. The unearthly swell beneath her breast implored her some kind of closure. “Say goodbye.”

Emma’s grin hardly concealed what was crumbling within. Her heart expanded and shattered in the span of a second. The way Regina was looking at her now – like she was the last unearthed fortune in the galaxy – it proved how wrong Emma had been. Regina’s refusal to get the first crack at something (a farewell she couldn’t bear to give) didn’t resemble the captain Emma had fallen in love with but the woman who was more than that, the woman Regina spoke of with tears of longing in her eyes.

She kissed back, Emma remembered. Regina kissed back and she hadn’t imagined it. It wasn’t some dream. It was real and Regina was clearly admitting so with a heart spent request.

“Goodbye,” Emma rasped, biting back a sob.

She turned quickly before breaking down completely and headed to her starfighter. It was already prepped with supplies for a long journey. She only packed the essentials for survival and what few possessions in the form of memorable photographs, holofiles, and fuzzy mementos. Emma nearly called the whole thing off when Henry handed over Tosche. He took the news like a trooper – then again, it could have just been a ploy to prove to his mother how much of a “big boy” he really was. At the risk of him seeing his mother crumble into a blubbering mess, she accepted the treasured stuffed animal without a fight.

The hanger floor blurred as she took broad, quick strides. Her eyes stung with a depravity she didn’t think she was capable of. Mess didn’t even begin to describe her.

Suddenly, Emma felt herself reeling back. A voice came from the ether, calling out her name. Suspending her breath, she whirled around.

“Emma.” Regina panted from the sprint, eyes wide with urgency and so much _need_. “You’re coming back.”

It was an expressed statement of fact, not a question Emma would be allowed to answer. The captain had given her last order. Emma was coming back and that’s all there was to it.

Emma tipped her head in understanding. “Yeah,” she murmured. It came so tenderly and yet it reverberated through space and time as a testament lasered in durasteel. Emma grinned. “Yeah, I’m coming back.”

Regina encroached the personal space Emma so desperately wished her to encroach upon and reached out. She focused everywhere in the place, the ineffable face between her hands, a beautiful vision she had wanted to call her own for some time now.

After pausing a hairsbreadth away to gain clearance from accepting green eyes, Regina finally prompted the kiss she had failed to return properly the first time.

When Regina withdrew she couldn’t help but snicker at the dazed look on Emma’s face. Truthfully, Regina herself didn’t think she possessed the tenderness exhibited. She had never kissed anyone like that, not even Daniel.

A punch-drunk smile graced Emma’s mouth. “Was that for luck?”

Overwhelmed by her impulsiveness and annoyed that Emma responded with all due cockiness, Regina felt a stab of conflicting reactions. Thankfully, the kiss quelled most of her pessimism.

Regina raised a brow as the corner of her mouth turned up. “Do you need it?”

“Never have. I make my own.” Emma dropped her chin sheepishly, lips twitching roguishly. “But I’m feeling a little low on the stuff at the moment…”

Regina nudged her shoulder, sending Emma back a step in laughter. She sighed euphorically at the sound.

“Maybe when I return?” supposed Emma.

Feigning exasperation, Regina rolled her eyes with a huff. “Don’t hold your breath.”

Emma laughed once more, eyes sparkling to the smile that just couldn’t quite be suppressed. “I always keep a spare breathing canister in my flight suit.”

Regina closed her eyes to stop the amassing tears. “Idiot,” she muttered under her breath.

Parting couldn’t be put off any longer. They were both too practical to delude themselves into believing a kiss could change the course of fate. It didn’t heal wounds or stop time. Unspoken yet clearly defined sentiment could not break curses.

As Regina’s hands slid from flushed cheeks, Emma used her thumb to wipe away the tear. She lingered, stroking the cheek. She burned every second of it in her memory, remembering how rewarding it was to have Regina lean into her touch. She cleaned away the tears, knowing more would replace them even after she turned her back. Before she changed her mind, Emma gave her love in that last caress and stole what little remained of herself apart from Regina.

* * *

When looking back, Regina would strain to remember how she allowed Emma to walk away. The first time, she let her go without a fight, but that had been before she acknowledged the growing watchfulness and natural affinity she carried for her first officer. The second instance came too late for her to make any impression. Recently, Regina had become familiar with failure, but not failure of this magnitude. She waited too long, she fought too hard, she didn’t give up enough… As if that didn’t beat her down enough, the dreadful empty sensation of powerlessness dawned on her. Nothing she did or could have done could change the fact that Emma slipped away from her again.

What little she could remember originated in the enduring pressure of Emma’s mouth and the heat between her hands as she cradled that face. Regina had never known respect for anyone as she had for Emma in that moment. Her sacrifice and bravery were every reason why she scorned Emma and every reason why she fell in love with her.

In the end, Regina couldn’t have watched Emma part from her if it weren’t for the one who brought them together. When she heard the quick steps of sneakers she turned to open her arms. Henry, eyes rimmed red by hours of crying and shaking like an unstable star, leapt. She brought him sobbing to her chest and cradled his matted head of hair. He cried and cried into her shoulder as they listened to the igniting engine. It was a sound they both would associate with abandonment.

Regina didn’t take her eyes off the craft or the vague blonde blur in the cockpit. Her hand scrambled blindly in tuffs of Henry’s shirt, imploring him not to shy away. If he did, he’d regret it, and Regina wouldn’t let her first act as his guardian be hardhearted. Henry loved Emma, he loved his mother, and Regina would never get in the way of that or make him forget it for one moment.

Henry abided by her urging and turned his head towards the containment field. He looked just in time to see the wing of Emma’s fighter tip in one last farewell.

They held on to each other as they were the last two people within a square parsec that considered each other family. Regina and Henry, no longer friends but something more, watched as the craft launched into hyperspace. They fixated on the ebbing pinprick as Emma left to find herself in the vast reaches of uncertainty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued in Part Three. Thank you for reading!


End file.
